

i \ in 


derick H. Martens 






















































































“Flee, flee, and save my child!” 







































































Copyright, 1924, by 
Robert M. McBride & Co. 1 


Printed in the 
United States of America 

First Printing 



NOV 15 1324 4 

©Cl A 807833 > 



V 


l*e 'V' 




TO THE FRIENDLY READER 


I N his Wonder Tales from Far Away, the second 
book of the Far Away series, the writer has gathered 
another series of fairy tales from the story-treasure of 
far-away peoples and places. 

They are stories for the young and old because—just 
as the fanciful scrolls and arabesques which adorn the 
palace walls of Grenada and Delhi often form part of 
the lettering of some wise or noble saying—the golden 
glow and fanciful color of nearly every wonder tale is 
woven around some beautiful underlying truth. 

In each case the truth is one which is as valid now as 
it was in those earlier days, when its story was born. 
And the fact that no matter how imaginative and ex¬ 
travagant in detail, no matter how fantastic and won¬ 
derful in incident and narrative, some beautiful truth, 
as a rule, underlies every good fairy tale, and still 
makes it real and beautiful to us to-day. 

The moral which “adorns” each tale has not been 
mentioned in this preface, for these stories are meant 
to be read and enjoyed for just what they are: Wonder 
Tales from Far Away . They are genuine stories and 
should be relished as such without suspicion of moral 
propaganda on the reader’s part. Besides, the reader 
iii 


iv TO THE FRIENDLY READER 

may be trusted to find any good hint or lesson a story 
may contain himself, and his own application will be 
more useful than any pointed out to him. 

As in his preceding volume the author has given his 
sources at the end of the book and has taken whatever 
liberties with his original texts American standards of 
presentation seemed to demand. 

Frederick H. Martens. 

Rutherford, N, J . 


CONTENTS 


PACE 

1. Coquerico (A Spanish Wonder Tale) .... i 

2. Fire-Jewel and the Midnight Axe .... 9 

(An Aztec Wonder Tale) 

3. Theophilus the Just (A Czech Fairy Tale) . . 16 

4. Keang-Njamo (A Bornean Fairy Tale) . . . 31 

5. The Man Who Came Back from Tlalocan . . 35 

(A Maya Fairy Tale) 

6. The Green Bird (A Wonder Tale of Sicily) . . 41 

7. The Golden Armlet (A Turkish Tale) ... 54 

8. The Water of Kane (A Hawaiian Wonder Tale) . 77 

9. The Red Heron (A Wonder Tale of Anahuac) . . 85 

10. Urashimataro (A Japanese Fairy Tale) ... 99 

11. The Girl Who Knew More Than the Emperor . 107 

(A Dalmatian Fairy Tale) 

12. Three Negro Fairy Tales from Africa . . .113 

7. Brave Little Kombe 
II. The Land Turtle and the Hippopotamus 

III. Why One Cannot See the Suns Whole Face 

13. The King Who Kept His Word.123 

(A Sanscrit Wonder Tale) 

14. Two Cinderella Stories.135 

7. La Cenerentola (As the Pisans Tell It) 

77. The Youngest of Seven Sisters and the Dju- 
lungdjulung Fish (As the Malays Tell It) 

15. The Wishing-Stone (A Tale of the Sargasso Sea) . 147 

y 




VI 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

16. Rich Brother and Poor Brother . . . .165 

(A Ukrainian Fairy Tale) 

17. The Tailor of the Dwarfs (A German Fairy Tale) 169 

18. The Goldsmith’s Niece and the Fisherman’s Faith¬ 

ful Son (A Greek Wonder Tale) . . . .188 

19. One That Is Dead Kills Two, and Two That Are 

Dead Kill Forty (A Celebes Fairy Tale) . . . 198 

20. The Garden of Paradise (A Serbian Wonder Tale) . 204 

21. The Parasol of Contentment (A Chinese Fairy Tale) 212 

22. M’Hemd Lascheischi’s Flute. 218 

(A Kabyle Wonder Tale) 

23. The Golden Hatchet (A Lettish Fairy Tale) . . 235 

24. The Intelligent Weaver (An Armenian Tale) . . 241 

25. How the Crow Came to be Black .... 248 

(An Australian Animal Tale) 

26. Tulisa (A Hindoo Wonder Tale).249 

27. The Phantom Caravan (An Arabian Wonder Tale) 271 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


In Color 

“Flee, flee, and save my child!”. Frontispiece 

FACINC 

PAGE 

“The Red Heron had just picked one of the emerald fruits with 

its beak”. 88 

“The Pot was filled from top to bottom with pure gold” . . 116 

“Across it, wild geese flew in the shape of a long wedge” . 214 


In Black and White 

“ ‘Here,’ said the Swiss, showing Coquerico to his housekeeper” 4 
“At that moment a sinister trembling ran through the entire 


vault” . . ..24 

“A figure shot halfway out of the water”.38 

“The afrit flew much faster than the magic carpet” . . .160 




/ 


WONDER TALES FROM FAR 
AWAY 


COQUERICO 

O NCE upon a time a beautiful hen lived like some 
grand lady in the poultry-yard of a rich farmer’s 
wife. She was surrounded by a numerous family of 
chickens which chirped and cheeped about her, and 
none chirped more loudly or grabbed the grains of corn 
more greedily from its mother’s beak than one small, 
misshaped and crippled chicken. Naturally, this was 
the one its mother loved above all the rest, for such is 
the nature of all mothers. 

This little feathered monster had but one eye, one 
claw and one wing. It almost seemed as though King 
Solomon had carried out his famous sentence on 
Coquerico—for that was the chicken’s name—and cut 
him in two with his famous sword. When one is half 
blind, lame and armless, one should be modest and re¬ 
tiring, but this young Castilian was haughtier than his 
father, the sharpest-spurred, most elegant, bravest and 
most courtly rooster that ever lived between Burgos 
and Madrid. Coquerico thought himself a phoenix of 


2 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


grace and beauty. He passed many an hour admiring 
his reflection in the water. If one of his brothers hap¬ 
pened to bump against him, he would begin to quarrel 
with him, accusing him of envy and jealousy, and risk¬ 
ing the one eye which he had fighting with him. When 
the hens began to cluck at sight of him he declared they 
did so to hide their annoyance because he would not 
take the trouble to look at them. 

One day, when he happened to feel even more con¬ 
ceited than usual, he said to his mother: “Listen to me, 
my good mother! I am bored with Spain, and am going 
to Rome. I would like to see the pope and the cardi¬ 
nals.” 

“Of what are you thinking, my child!” cried his 
mother. “What could have put such a mad idea into 
your head? Never has any member of our family gone 
out of the country, hence we are the pride of our race. 
We can show a family tree. Where will you find a 
poultry-yard like ours, with mulberry trees to shade it, 
a white-washed chicken-house to shelter you, a magnifi¬ 
cent dung-heap, plenty of worms and grain, brothers 
who love you and three dogs to protect you from the 
foxes? Do yoti not think that even in Rome you will 
regret the ease and abundance of your life here?” 

Coquerico raised his one wing as a sign of disdain. 
“Mother,” said he, “you are a very worthy woman. 
All seems beautiful to one who has never left her own 
dung-heap. But I have enough intelligence to see that 


COQUERICO 


3 


my brothers are brainless, and that my cousins are rus¬ 
tics. My genius is stifled in this wretched hole, and I 
must go out into the world and make my fortune.” 

“But, my son,” said his poor mother, “have you 
ever taken a look at yourself in the pool? Do you not 
know that you lack an eye, a foot and a wing? To 
make your fortune you must have the eyes of a fox, a 
spider’s feet and a vulture’s wings. Once you leave 
here you will perish!” 

“Mother,” answered Coquerico, “when a hen hatches 
out a duckling she always is worried when she sees her 
chick run into the water. You do not know me. I am 
so made that I am bound to succeed by reason of my 
talents and intelligence. I must be surrounded by 
people who are able to appreciate my personal beauty. 
I am out of place here, among the small fry of this 
poultry-yard.” 

When the mother hen saw that any advice she might 
give would be lost, she said to Coquerico: 

“My son, at least pay attention to your mother’s part¬ 
ing counsels. If you go to Rome avoid passing St. 
Peter’s cathedral. It is said that the saint does not like 
roosters, especially when they crow. You must also 
avoid certain people who are known as cooks and scul¬ 
lions; you can recognize them by their white caps, their 
upturned aprons and the knives they carry at their 
side. These people are assassins who pursue us with¬ 
out mercy and cut our necks without giving us time to 


4 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

say a miserere. And now, my child,” she added, raising 
her claw, “receive my blessing and may Saint James— 
he is the patron saint of pilgrims—protect you I” 

Coquerico pretended not to notice that a tear glis¬ 
tened in his mother’s eye, nor did he pay any attention 
to his father who, notwithstanding, threw back his head 
and called to him. Without giving another thought to 
those whom he left behind, the ungrateful cockerel slid 
through the half-opened door and, once outside, flapped 
his wing and crowed, “Coquerico! Coquerico! Co¬ 
querico!” three times to celebrate his liberty. 

As he hurried across the fields, half flying, half leap¬ 
ing, he came to the bed of a stream, dried out by the 
sun. Nevertheless, in the middle of the sand there still 
ran a tiny tricklet of water, but it was a thread so small 
that two leaves which had fallen from a tree were 
enough to stop it from running. 

When the little rill of water saw the traveler, it said: 

“My friend, you see how weak I am. I am not even 
strong enough to carry off the two leaves which bar my 
progress, nor can I go around them, for I am exhausted. 
With one peck of your beak you can restore me to life. 
I am not ungrateful, and if you oblige me, you may 
count on my thanks the first day it rains, when the water 
from the skies has restored my strength.” 

“You are joking,” said Coquerico. “Do I look like 
a river-bed sweep? Do not bother me, but ask some 



“Here,” said the Swiss, showing Coquerico to his housekeeper” 
















COQUERICO 


5 

persons of your own kind to help you,” he added, as he 
leaped the streamlet with his one good leg. 

A little further on, our proud young rooster saw a 
breeze lying on the ground, all out of breath. 

“Dear Coquerico,” said the breeze, “come and help 
me! Here on earth one should help his neighbor. You 
see to what the heat of the day has reduced me. I, 
who, at other times, can uproot olive trees and set the 
ocean billowing, am nearly dead of the heat. I al¬ 
lowed myself to be lulled asleep by the fragrance of 
these roses with which I was playing, and now I lie 
fainting on the ground. If you would raise me up a 
couple of inches from the ground with your beak, and 
fan me a bit with your wing, I would be strong enough 
to rise up to those white clouds above our heads, pushed 
by one of my brothers, and my family would help me 
to exist until I inherited new power from the next tor¬ 
nado.” 

“My lord,” said Coquerico, “more than once your 
Excellency has amused himself playing tricks on me! 
Only last week, creeping up deceitfully behind me, your 
Grandeur entertained himself by spreading my tail- 
feathers out like a fan, and covered me with confusion 
before every one. But practical jokers sometimes find 
the tables turned. It is well for them to learn respect 
for certain individuals whose birth, beauty and intelli¬ 
gence should protect them from jesters like yourself!” 


6 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


With these words, Coquerico, ruffling his feathers, 
called out in his hoarsest voice— “Coquerico! Coquer¬ 
ico! Coquericor —three times, and proudly continued 
on his way. 

Soon he came to a newly ploughed field, in which 
the farmhands had gathered a great heap of weeds for 
burning. A small flame showed between some sprays 
of ivy, blackening the green leaves without being able 
to burn them. 

“My dear friend,” cried the flame as the cockerel 
came along, “you have arrived just in time to save my 
life I I am dying for lack of nourishment. I do not 
know where my cousin, the wind, who could help me, 
can be amusing himself. Please bring me some bits of 
dry straw as quickly as you can to strengthen me. You 
may count on my gratitude!” 

“Wait a bit,” thought Coquerico to himself. “I will 
treat you as you ought to be treated, for your insolence 
in addressing me!” And at once he leaped on the pile 
of humid weeds and pressed them so strongly to the 
ground that the crackling of the flame no longer was 
heard and only smoke rose from them. Thereupon 
Master Coquerico, as was his habit, crowed three times: 
“Coquerico! Coquerico! Coquerico!” and then flapped 
his wing as though he had won a great victory. 

Running and clucking, Coquerico at last came to 
Rome, for all roads lead to Rome, as everybody knows. 
No sooner had he reached the city than he made 


COQUERICO 


7 


straight for the great cathedral of Saint Peter. He did 
not think for a moment of admiring it, but strutting up 
opposite the principal gate—though in the midst of 
the tall columns he looked no larger than a fly—he 
hoisted himself up on his heel, and began to crow: 
“Coquerico! Coquerico! Coquerico !”—just to irritate 
the saint and disobey his mother. 

He had not yet finished crowing before a Swiss, one 
of the Holy Father’s guards, who had heard him, ran 
up, laid hands on him and carried off the insolent 
cockerel to his lodgings for supper. 

“Here,” said the Swiss, showing Coquerico to his 
housekeeper, “let me have some hot water at once to 
scald this rascal’s feathers!” 

“Mercy, mercy, Lady Water!” cried Coquerico. 
“Water so gentle and kind, loveliest and best creature 
in the world, have pity and do not scald me!” 

“Did you take pity on me when I begged you to, un¬ 
grateful one?” cried the Water, boiling with rage. 
With a single leap it covered the cockerel from head to 
foot and did not leave him a feather to his body. 

The Swiss at once seized the unfortunate bird and 
put him on the grill. 

“Fire, do not burn me!” cried Coquerico. “Father 
of light, brother of the sun, cousin of the diamond, spare 
a poor wretch! Subdue your ardor, moderate your 
flame, do not roast me!” 

“Did you take pity on me when I begged you to?” 


8 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


asked the Fire, burning with rage, and with a single 
spurt of flame it reduced Coquerico to a crisp. 

When the Swiss saw that his roast was not fit to eat, 
he picked up the cockerel by the claw and threw him 
out of the window. The wind carried him off and flung 
him on a garbage-heap. 

“O Wind,” murmured Coquerico, who still breathed, 
“beneficent breeze, protecting zephyr, I repent of all 
my former sins and follies! Let me rest on the dear 
old dung-heap at home!” 

“Rest!” howled the Wind. “Wait a bit, I will show 
you how the ungrateful are served I” And with a single 
blast he sent him up so high into the air that when 
Coquerico fell down he was caught and held by a 
church steeple. 

And there Saint Peter was waiting for him. With 
his own hands he nailed Coquerico to the highest 
church-steeple in Rome, and if you travel to Rome you 
still may see him there. For all that he was raised so 
high above the rest of the world, every one despises 
him because he turns with the least breath of the wind. 
He is black, dried-up, featherless and whipped by the 
rain, and no longer is known as Coquerico but as 
Weathercock. And thus he has to pay through all time 
for his disobedience to his mother, his vanity, his inso¬ 
lence and, above all, his hatefulness. 


FIRE-JEWEL AND THE MIDNIGHT AXE 


/^VNCE upon a time, in the good old days, a soldier 
youth by the name of Fire-Jewel lived in the tel - 
pochcalli, the House of the Young Warriors, in a city 
of Anahuac. Now Fire-Jewel loved the beautiful 
Princess Maize-Flower, the daughter of the king of the 
city, though he knew it was vain for a young and un¬ 
known warrior, no matter how brave he might be, to 
hope to gain her hand. Some day she would be be¬ 
trothed to a prince or great lord, and the blaring of 
conch-shells and beating of drums at the wedding-feast 
would mark the end of his dream. 

If Fire-Jewel had been a wise young man he would 
have tried to forget Maize-Flower. But though she 
seemed as far removed from him as the stars in the 
skies, the youth only grew the more determined to win 
her. She had smiled on him once when passing in her 
litter to the temple of Centeotl, the earth goddess, and 
he could not forget her smile. Yet, though he thought 
and thought without ceasing of some way in which he 
could make his wish come true, he could hit upon no 
plan that promised any hope of success. At last, think¬ 
ing that he might be able to help him, he told his tale 
to his brother, who was a priest of Mixcoatl, the god of 

9 


10 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


the chase. When he listened to it, Fire-Jewel’s brother 
shook his head. 

“Three things you must have before you can hope to 
win the hand of the Princess Maize-Flower,” he then 
said, “high position, warlike fame and wealth; and I 
see only one way in which you may obtain them. But it 
is a dark and dangerous way, and may cost you your 
life.” 

“Only tell me what I must do, brother, in order to 
win Maize-Flower. There is no danger which I would 
not dare for her sake!” cried Fire-Jewel. 

“Then listen. If your heart is void of fear, and you 
will face Youaltepuztli, the grisly ghost who wanders 
at night on the mountains, you may obtain your desire. 
Youaltepuztli goes about in the shape of a headless 
man. As he walks, the two sides of his chest open and 
shut continually, exposing his heart. This opening and 
shutting of his chest makes a sinister sound like that of 
an axe cleaving dry wood, and for this reason he is 
called ‘The Midnight Axe.’ He is terrible to look 
upon. If, when you meet him, you give way to fear, he 
gains power over you, and you will never return from 
the mountains alive. But if you walk up to him un¬ 
afraid, thrust your hand into his chest when it opens and 
draw forth his heart, he will grant whatever you wish 
in order to be released.” 

Fire-Jewel smiled and said to his brother, “I have 
no fear. This very night I will seek Youaltepuztli in 


FIRE-JEWEL AND MIDNIGHT AXE u 


the mountains. And do you pray the god Mixcoatl 
that he give me good hunting!” 

“Be not too certain of your courage,” answered his 
brother. “Few have lived to see Youaltepuztli and tell 
the tale. But remember, when you hold his heart in 
your hand, not to let him of! too cheaply. As a token 
of the wish he grants you he will give you an agave 
thorn. As soon as he has given you one thorn he will 
want you to let him go; but you must not release him 
until he has granted all your wishes.” 

Fire-Jewel left his brother with a glad heart. That 
night he put on his manguey mantle and his soldier 
headdress of white agtatl plumes, the feathers of the 
white heron, hung his necklace of sea-shells around his 
neck, thrust his turquoise earrings in his ears and, tak¬ 
ing his obsidian sword in hand, slipped out of the House 
of the Warriors and went to the mountains beyond the 
city. 

The night was clear, but the forest was thick on the 
mountains, and for a long time there was nothing to be 
heard but the noises made by Fire-Jewel as he groped 
his way through the thickets. At last, faintly and from 
a distance, he heard a sound which made his heart leap 
with joy. It was like an axe cleaving dry wood. Has¬ 
tening in the direction of the sound, Fire-Jewel after a 
time came to a clearing in the forest. And there in the 
clearing, in the moonlight, he found Youaltepuztli. 
The phantom stood motionless, fronting in the direction 


12 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


from which Fire-Jewel came. Though he was only a 
headless trunk, he seemed to be listening to his foot¬ 
steps. A mantle of red cloth hung from his shoulders, 
and, as Fire-Jewel drew near, he could see the two 
halves of his chest—just as his brother had told him— 
open and close. For a moment Fire-Jewel, brave as he 
was, felt a shudder pass over him at the sight of this 
grisly specter, its chest opening and shutting with the 
sound of an axe cleaving dry wood and disclosing the 
red heart beating within its breast. But only for a mo¬ 
ment did Fire-Jewel give way to the horror he felt; 
then his mind turned to Maize-Flower and the task 
that lay before him. Rapidly stepping up to Youalte- 
puztli, he thrust his hand into the dark cavern of his 
chest as it opened and drew forth the phantom’s heart. 
And then, when he held the quivering heart in 
his hand, the phantom spoke in a hollow voice— 
though it had no mouth with which to speak—and 
said, “Release me, young warrior! Release my heart 
and I will give you whatever you wish!” 

Fire-Jewel, holding the heart firmly in his hand, an¬ 
swered, “I wish to be a noble, a tlaotani, with the right 
to wear the emerald lip-jewel in my lip!” 

Then Youaltepuztli drew an agave thorn out of the 
empty air with his right hand and offered it to Fire- 
Jewel, who took it. “Your wish is granted,” said the 
phantom, “and now set me free!” 


FIRE-JEWEL AND MIDNIGHT AXE 13 

“You must grant me another wish before I release 
you,” said Fire-Jewel, and pressed the phantom’s heart 
between his fingers. “I must have warlike fame to add 
glory to my noble rank.” 

“You shall be given the title of cuachictin, Com¬ 
mander of Eagles, which only those who are bravest in 
battle obtain, and the honor of painting half your face 
red and the other half yellow.” As he said this Youalte- 
puztli plucked a second agave thorn out of the air and 
gave it to Fire-Jewel, adding, “And now let me go!” 

But Fire-Jewel was not yet ready to release the phan¬ 
tom’s heart. “You must grant one more request before 
I free you,” he cried. “I wish to be the owner of great 
riches!” 

A third time the phantom drew an agave thorn from 
the air, gave it to the youth and said, “A rich treasure 
of gold and silver, precious stones and pearls, lies be¬ 
neath the floor of the hut in which your mother dwells. 
Dig there and you will find it. And now, for the third 
time, youthful warrior, I ask you to release me!” 

Then Fire-Jewel at last thrust back Youaltepuztli’s 
heart into his chest, and, no sooner had he done so, than 
the phantom turned and was lost to sight in the shadows 
of the trees. But Fire-Jewel, blessing his brother and 
the god Mixcoatl, who had given him good hunting 
and helped him in his quest for the three things needful 
to win the hand of the lovely Princess Maize-Flower, 


14 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

returned to the House of the Warriors with the three 
agave thorns and entered it unobserved before the 
dawn. 

The very next day the young warriors were sum¬ 
moned from their telpochalli to march against a nearby 
tribe which was advancing to attack the city. In the 
battle which followed Fire-Jewel fought with such des¬ 
perate bravery that he cut down the enemy’s standard- 
bearer and captured the standard, whereupon the foe 
took to flight. As a reward the king made him a cua- 
chictin, a Commander of Eagles, on the field of battle, 
with the right to paint half his face red and the other 
yellow. Then the king sent him to Tenochtitlan, to re¬ 
port the victory to his overlord, King Ahuitzotl, The 
Otter, who reigned in the City of the Lagoons. And 
King Ahuitzotl was so pleased with the message and its 
bearer, the young Commander of Eagles, that he made 
Fire-Jewel a noble of high rank and bestowed on him a 
gift of ten villages. When Fire-Jewel returned to his 
native town he dug beneath the earth of his mother’s 
hut and there found the gold and silver, the precious 
stones and pearls, promised him by Youaltepuztli. 

And now there was nothing to prevent his asking the 
king, her father, for the hand of the lovely Princess 
Maize-Flower. The king was glad to give his daughter 
to the brave and wealthy noble, the young Commander 
of Eagles who enjoyed the favor of the great ruler in 


FIRE-JEWEL AND MIDNIGHT AXE 15 

distant Tenochtitlan, and Fire-Jewel and Maize- 
Flower were married, and lived happily all the days 
of their lives. This was because Fire-Jewel, for the 
sake of his love, had dared to seek out Youaltepuztli, 
the Midnight Axe, and wring from him the gifts of 
good fortune. And if ever you have a chance to hold 
Youaltepuztli to ransom be sure he does not escape from 
you after giving you one agave thorn, but get at least 
three from him. For it is better to be granted three 
wishes than one. 


THEOPHILUS THE JUST 


I T sometimes happens in this world that a laboring 
man, who must gain his daily bread with pain and 
trouble, has more children to take care of than a rich 
man, dressed in silk and counting his gold by the bas¬ 
ketful. And such was once the case in the capital of a 
great kingdom, where a poor servant found himself 
father of six sons, while the king lacked an heir. Now 
the king had thrown away thousands of golden ducats 
for advice given him by learned doctors and even old 
witches—for he tried everything—but all in vain. No 
son came to the royal palace to gladden his heart. The 
queen, too, had prayers said every day in all the 
churches of the kingdom, but for all that the son for 
whom she longed did not put in an appearance. 

Then, one day, the king grew highly indignant and 
said in his anger: “If God wills not to grant me a son, 
then may the devil give me one!” 

Before long the queen told him that the wish of their 
hearts would be granted, but by that time the king had 
forgotten all about the impious words he had uttered in 
his rage. When the child arrived it turned out to be a 
little princess, and people from all over came to the 
palace to celebrate her christening. For eight days 
16 


1 7 


THEOPHILUS THE JUST 

nothing was heard throughout the city but music and 
song, as the inhabitants made merry with games and 
dances. 

The princess was baptized by the name of Ludmilla, 
and was brought up as the apple of her parents’ eyes. 
By the time she had reached the age of seventeen she 
was the most beautiful girl in the whole kingdom. 
More than one noble youth would gladly have cast him¬ 
self into the waves and dived to the bottom of the sea, 
had he been certain of finding so precious a pearl. But 
the lovely princess Ludmilla did not think of suitors, 
though her parents spent much time trying to decide 
which one, among the many princes who desired her 
hand, might be the most desirable. 

One day Ludmilla was very sorrowful, and when she 
sat down at the table with her parents, her mother asked 
her why she seemed so sad. “Ah, dear mother,” an¬ 
swered the princess, “I do not know why, but all day 
long I have felt melancholy, as though something told 
me that I soon would be separated from you!” 

And, just as her mother was about to scold her for 
thinking such gloomy thoughts, the unfortunate prin¬ 
cess suddenly turned black as coal and fell lifeless from 
her chair to the ground. Seeing this, the queen herself 
fainted, and while the king tore his hair in despair, the 
courtiers immediately sent for a great number of physi¬ 
cians. Not one of them, however, was able to bring the 
unfortunate princess to life again. So her body was 


18 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


sumptuously arrayed, laid in a golden casket and locked 
up in the royal burial vault. And the king ordered that 
a soldier should stand watch over the sepulcher day and 
night, as a guard of honor. The people of the king¬ 
dom were deeply grieved at the young princess’ sud¬ 
den death, but her wretched parents were the ones who 
shed the most tears, for they had lost the sole object of 
their affection. 

At daybreak, when the watch came to relieve the sol¬ 
dier who had gone to stand guard at the sepulcher be¬ 
fore twelve, they found that he had been torn to pieces. 
Shocked by so horrid a sight, they looked at one an¬ 
other in perplexity, without being able to explain how 
such a thing could have happened. When the body 
was removed by the soldiers the king was informed of 
what had taken place. Shaking his head, he ordered 
his officers to send the bravest soldier they had to stand 
guard the following night, in order to find out who had 
slain the first. But the same thing happened again, and 
so it went day after day: sometimes during the last hour 
before midnight the guard was slain. The soldiers be¬ 
gan to complain, blaming the king because he sent his 
brave fighting men to death for a mere whim, while 
rumor spread among the common folk that the dead 
princess walked as a ghost. Thus things went on for a 
time, until it was impossible to find a soldier brave 
enough to stand guard at the princess’s tomb. In view 
of this fact the soldier to stand guard was then chosen 


i9 


THEOPHILUS THE JUST 

by order of name in the regimental roster, and none 
liked to have his name called. The man whose turn it 
was to mount guard trembled like a leaf, but obedience 
is the first rule of army life, so he had to go and do his 
duty. 

After a time it came Theophilus’s turn to mount 
guard—Theophilus was one of the poor servant’s six 
sons, who had joined the army, and a good-looking and 
merry-hearted youth, beloved of all his comrades. Had 
the king ordered him to march against the enemy, he 
would not have been a bit afraid, but mounting guard 
at the princess’s tomb was a horse of another color. He 
felt that he was marked for sure death, and therefore 
begged permission to visit his parents and say farewell 
to them. 

On his way to see them, however, he changed his 
mind and thought to himself: “Why should I let my¬ 
self be cut to pieces by some monster without so much 
as a by your leave? It would be better for me to make 
my escape!” 

With this idea in mind, he left the road and took his 
way across the fields. And after he had run for some 
distance, he saw an old man, bowed down by years, 
gray-headed and with a long beard as white as snow, 
sitting in the shade of a tree. 

“Be kind enough, my good soldier boy, to help me 
rise,” said he to Theophilus, as the latter passed. 

“With all the pleasure in the world,” said the youth. 


20 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


“More than that,” he added, “if you wish, I will accom¬ 
pany you, so long as you are not going to town!” 

“In other words, if I am going to town you will not 
go with me?” 

“Heaven has delivered me, and I shall take good care 
not to go back again!” 

“Will you not tell me why you have come to this de¬ 
cision?” 

“Why not? I do not suppose you will betray me!” 

So Theophilus told the little old man the tale of the 
unfortunate guards, adding that he himself was running 
away to escape a terrible death. 

“Listen to me a moment, for I am going to give you 
a bit of advice!” said the old man, when Theophilus 
had ended his story. “The phantom which kills the 
soldiers on guard is none other than the dead Princess, 
Ludmilla, who must suffer to atone for her father’s 
crime. 

“The king, her father, mocked Heaven by asking that 
the devil might give him a son, and so the poor girl is 
now possessed by a malignant demon and waits and 
hopes for the moment of salvation. If you follow my 
advice to the letter, you can not alone deliver the prin¬ 
cess but make your own fortune as well!” 

“I will obey you, old man, because my conscience 
already troubles me for having deserted like a good- 
for-naught!” 

“Then return to your post and, without giving your- 


21 


THEOPHILUS THE JUST 

self a moment’s worry, go to mount guard when your 
name is called. When you descend into the burial 
vault, sprinkle yourself with holy water, draw a circle 
around yourself with your musket and do not step out¬ 
side it. No matter what happens, do not leave the 
circle. You must show no fear, for if you do it will be 
the worse for you. To-morrow come back to this place 
and tell me how matters went!” 

Thanking the little old man, Theophilus returned to 
the city, and his comrades, who thought they would find 
him plunged in gloom, were surprised to see him full 
of songs and jests. A little before eleven he took up 
his musket and, entirely at ease, went to the church. 

“God grant that you survive the night, and that we 
see each other again in the morning!” said the com¬ 
rades who accompanied him. 

“I expect to do so,” replied Theophilus. “I expect 
to return and greet you, because I am far more careful 
than those who went before me, and I have not the 
slightest doubt but what I will be able to solve this rid¬ 
dle!” 

With this he bade his comrades farewell and went his 
way through the dark church to the royal tomb, splen¬ 
didly illuminated. First of all he took up one of the 
twenty-four wax tapers that stood on the cover of the 
catafalque and examined it from top to bottom to see 
whether he could find anything suspicious about it. But 
there was nothing to be seen. Then he took up his posi- 


22 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


tion in the middle of the vault, drew a circle around 
himself with the end of his musket, stepped inside it 
and, presenting arms, stood waiting for whatever might 
occur. Whenever he began to feel frightened he re¬ 
called the little old man’s words, and his apprehensions 
disappeared. 

As the bells chimed the hour of eleven, the golden 
cover of the casket popped open and out came the prin¬ 
cess, black as a coal, and began to run about the vault 
like some horrible serpent. It was plain that she would 
gladly have flung herself on the soldier, but that she did 
not dare, since she could not pass the circle he had 
traced on the ground. So in a sudden fit of rage, she 
began to claw at the other caskets, scattering tatters of 
their coverings through the air and pulling the quiet 
dead out of their cerements in a way that was dreadful 
to behold. This continued till about twelve o’clock 
when with one leap she was back in her casket again, 
the cover closed of its own accord and all was silent 
once more. 

Though Theophilus had shown that he was a brave 
youth, it was with much satisfaction that he heard the 
footsteps of the soldiers coming to relieve him. They 
were greatly surprised and pleased to find their com¬ 
rade still alive, and at once asked him how he had 
passed the night, and what he had seen. 

“What I have seen I have seen. We will let it go at 
that, for I shall not tell you!” answered Theophilus, 


THEOPHILUS THE JUST 23 

remembering that the little old man had ordered him 
not to say a word to any one. 

The next day, when the news was known, the king 
sent for Theophilus to question him about his nocturnal 
adventure. “Your Majesty,” said Theophilus, “I can¬ 
not tell you, so I beg you will not insist that I do!” 

When the king saw that insistence was useless, he 
begged Theophilus to stand guard another night in the 
vault, offering to reward him richly if he did. The¬ 
ophilus promised to do what the king asked, and that 
same afternoon went to see the little old man. 

“Well? And how did matters turn out?” asked the 
old man, whom Theophilus found sitting beneath the 
selfsame tree. “Very well, and a thousand thanks for 
your good advice!” answered Theophilus, and then told 
him, word for word, all that had happened. 

“Well done!” cried the ancient. “Go and mount 
guard to-night, and do just as you did last night. And 
though you may see even more terrible sights, have no 
fear and return again to-morrow to see me!” Thank¬ 
ing him for his advice, Theophilus returned to his bar¬ 
racks. When it was near eleven, he hurried to the vault. 
Just as on the preceding night, he traced a circle with 
his musket, and, stepping within it, awaited the horrors 
of which the ancient had spoken. As the bells chimed 
the hour, the lid of the casket raised, and the princess 
leaped out with a single bound. Then, as though they 
obeyed some mysterious signal, every corner of the 


24 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

vault began to swarm with dreadful monsters whose 
eyes shot fire while they gnashed their great jaws at 
Theophilus. Hideous bats and owls fluttered about his 
head, while the princess turned the whole vault upside 
down, flinging about the remains of her ancestors, and 
grinning at Theophilus with her horrid black face. 
But the fearless soldier stood his post with raised mus¬ 
ket, his eyes following the infernal dance which whirled 
about him. Suddenly the bells chimed twelve and all 
disappeared. 

The next morning the king again asked him what he 
had seen in the vault the night before, but Theophilus 
would not tell him. In the afternoon he went back to 
the little old man and informed him of what had taken 
place. 

“One more night must go by, and then the princess 
will be delivered from the infernal powers,” said the 
old man. “Yet, if this third time you want me to aid 
you with my advice, you will have to promise me half 
of all you may receive as a reward for your trouble!” 

“Gladly will I do so, old man, if you will aid me 
with your advice this third time!” said Theophilus. 

“Very well, return and mount guard in the vault. 
Then, when the princess leaps from her casket, jump 
into it yourself without losing a moment, first tracing a 
circle around your head. As the hour of twelve draws 
near, the princess will make desperate efforts to put you 
out of the casket, and will ask you most tenderly to let 



“At that moment a sinister trembling ran through the entire vault” 






















*5 


THEOPHILUS THE JUST 

her get into it again. But you must turn a deaf ear to 
all her pleas, for otherwise it will be the end of you. 
Whatever else takes place you will see for yourself.” 

Theophilus promised to follow the old man’s advice 
word for word and, after having left him, returned to 
town. 

When eleven o’clock drew near, Theophilus already 
was at his post, and the moment the princess leaped 
from her casket, he ran up to it and, first drawing a cir¬ 
cle around his head, climbed into her place. As on 
the preceding nights the same mad rout of fantastic 
monsters whirled around the casket, without any of 
them daring to pass the circle. The princess, whose 
fury was greater than ever before, tried to coax The¬ 
ophilus from the casket, and when she saw that he did 
not move, flew into such a fury that she tore her clothes. 
Then, kneeling down beside Theophilus, she began to 
plead affectionately with him to let her enter the casket 
before the fatal hour struck. But the soldier turned a 
deaf ear to her pleadings. So, when she saw that noth¬ 
ing moved him, she offered him an immense treasure of 
gold and silver, enough to buy a kingdom. Yet The¬ 
ophilus did not stir. 

And that moment a sinister trembling ran through 
the entire vault and, at the same time, the four-and- 
twenty wax tapers on the catafalque went out, while 
blue lightnings flashed from every corner of the crypt. 
The caskets of the kings and queens opened and the 


26 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


skeletons, coming out, at once formed a circle around 
that of the princess and began an infernal dance, 
stretching out their fleshless hands entreatingly toward 
Theophilus. Cold perspiration broke out on the young 
soldier’s brow at seeing himself surrounded by this 
ghastly company, but, confiding in the little old man’s 
promise, he commended himself to the protection of 
Heaven and, his eyes closed, acted as though he were 
dead. Suddenly came another strong shock, then the 
bells chimed twelve, and Theophilus, opening his eyes, 
saw that all was as before. There was one exception, 
however: the Princess Ludmilla was kneeling near the 
casket, praying fervently, and she no longer was black 
as coal, but more beautiful than ever. Theophilus’s 
admiring eyes would probably have watched her for 
a long time, had not the steps of the soldiers, coming to 
relieve him, roused him to action. 

He climbed out of the casket, while Ludmilla, whose 
blue eyes were still turned toward heaven, came to him 
and said: “How can I reward you, my noble friend, 
for having saved me from the clutches of the demons 1” 

Theophilus seized her hand and kissed it, and the 
princess, hearing a clash of arms, suddenly clung to 
him in alarm. The soldiers, coming to relieve Theophi¬ 
lus, had first peered timidly in through a crack in the 
door to see whether it were safe to enter the vault. 
But when they saw Ludmilla, her head surrounded 


27 


THEOPHILUS THE JUST 

by a bright halo, they took her for a heavenly vision. 

Seized with a sudden panic, they ran from the church, 
and it was the noise of their flight which had alarmed 
the princess. When they returned to the barracks they 
at once informed their officers that Theophilus was in 
the vault talking to an angel. Word was sent to the 
king, and he at once went to the church with them. 
When the king opened the church door, Theophilus 
and Ludmilla were kneeling before the altar. At first 
he could not believe his eyes, but when Ludmilla turned 
her head and cast herself into her father’s arms with a 
cry of joy, the king held her close and wept tears of 
happiness. And her mother’s joy, at seeing the daugh¬ 
ter she had thought dead restored to her more beautiful 
than ever, was beyond description. 

When Ludmilla told them of all the sufferings which 
had ended with her rescue by Theophilus, the king and 
queen thanked her deliverer, and the former had a 
purse full of ducats brought from the treasury and of¬ 
fered them to the soldier. 

“Keep them, keep them, generous monarch!” said the 
soldier, waving the money away. “What I did I did 
without any thought of gain, and I would be ashamed 
to accept a gift!” At that Ludmilla seized her father’s 
hand and cried: “Dear father, this is the man who 
saved me and whom I love, and the best reward you 
could give him would be to accept him as your son!” 


28 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


At first the king shook his head but, finally, in view of 
the queen’s pleading glances, he gave his consent. 
Theophilus could hardly believe his good fortune. 

At the king’s wish the wedding was celebrated at 
once, and Theophilus began to study the complicated 
art of politics in order to be able to take the king’s 
place, for his father-in-law wished to resign the crown 
to him. Then came the young soldier’s coronation, and 
at the banquet which followed, the new monarch had 
seats placed for his father and his six brothers beside 
himself. Then he settled down to his high duties, liv¬ 
ing with his beautiful queen in great content and happi¬ 
ness until, one day, when they were driving in the out¬ 
skirts of the city, the horses of the royal coach, when 
about to cross the bridge that led into town, refused to 
budge, and nothing could induce them to move on. 
The king called out to the coachman to see what was in 
the way. But the coachman answered that there was 
nothing in sight, save a little old man seated at the foot 
of the gate of the bridge. The king, descending from 
the coach, went up to him and at once recognized the 
ancient who had given him the good advice. Pleased 
to see him, Theophilus cried: “Where have you been 
keeping yourself? I have had you searched for every¬ 
where, without avail!” 

“I trust that while you sought for me you did not 
forget your promise!” said the ancient. 

“How could I forget it?” answered Theophilus. 


THEOPHILUS THE JUST 29 

“Of all that I gained the half is yours. And now let 
me present you to my wife!” 

“It is your wife who interests me in this connection. 
. . . Are you aware of the fact, Theophilus, that you 
are entitled to only half of her?” 

Theophilus did not know what to say, and the blood 
ran cold in his veins. Alas, he had not thought of that! 

“I expect you to be just and keep your promise,” said 
the little old man. “Take your sword and cut your wife 
in two and give me my half!” 

The horrified Theophilus answered in a trembling 
voice: “Do not ask me to do such a cruel thing. I 
would rather give you the whole of my kingdom.” 

“But I do not want the whole of your kingdom,” re¬ 
plied the obstinate old man. “I only want half your 
kingdom and half your wife, to which I have a just 
claim. If you are a man of your word, you will not 
hesitate to sacrifice what you value most in the world, 
for the greatest crime a king can commit is not to keep 
his word!” 

At last Theophilus, after exhausting entreaty and 
argument, went back to his wife and told her how mat¬ 
ters stood, and, hoping that the sight of her beauty and 
innocence might move the ancient, he brought her back 
with him. But the old man remained unmoved, and 
insisted on having his rights. So, kissing Ludmilla for 
the last time, the king drew his sword, raised it high in 
the air and— 


30 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


“Stop!” cried the ancient, “I only wished to put you 
to the test to see whether you would make a just king, 
and one faithful to his given word. Now I know that 
you will do so, and if you continue thus for the rest of 
your days Heaven will bless you!” And with that the 
little old man vanished, while Theophilus reigned all 
the days of his life with equity and mercy, and was the 
joy and happiness of his subjects. 


KEANG-NJAMO 


/^\NCE upon a time there was a bit of fibre, Keang- 
Njamo, made of the inner bark of trees, such as 
the people beat into a cloth to wear about their bodies. 
It had been hung on a wooden stand near the fire, to 
dry. And there it hung. No one paid any attention to 
it, and it dried until it became hard. But as it hung 
there, Keang-Njamo, the bit of fibre cloth, thought to 
itself: “It really is unfair that I have to lie here in idle¬ 
ness, without being of use to any one! I cannot work 
or do anything else. So I will go to Allah, and beg him 
to make a man of me, for then I shall be of some use in 
the world, and will be able to work.” 

So Keang-Njamo at once set about carrying out its 
intention, and went to Allah. When Allah saw Keang- 
Njamo coming he said: “Well, Keang-Njamo, why do 
you come to me? And what is it that you want?” 
“Alas,” replied the bit of fibre cloth, “I have to hang 
uselessly on a stand. I should like to be a man, so that I 
can do some work.” “Your wish is granted,” said 
Allah; “go home!” And at once Keang-Njamo, the bit 
of fibre cloth, became a man. Happy at heart he re¬ 
turned home and now was able to work and earn a liv¬ 
ing like other men. 

31 


32 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

But by and by Keang-Njamo noticed that his work 
and his constant worry as to how he was to support him¬ 
self made him very tired. So at last he said to himself: 
“I am afraid that work will not agree with me in the 
long run. Of course, if I were rich, then I would be 
well satisfied. I must go to Allah once more!” No 
sooner said than done: he went to Allah. “Well, and 
what is the matter now, Keang-Njamo? What is the 
trouble?” asked Allah. “Alas,” replied Keang-Njamo, 
“you granted my first wish and made a man of me. But 
now I have to work, and that does not please me at all. 
I can no longer stand working and take no pleasure in 
it.” “What would you like, then?” asked Allah. “I 
should like to be so rich that I no longer would need 
to work,” said Keang-Njamo; “then I would be happy 
and content!” 

And Allah granted his wish. 

So Keang-Njamo grew rich and even richer; he had 
coined gold and valuables more than enough; many men 
stood ready to serve him, and many slaves obeyed his 
commands. And at first he was satisfied; yet gradually 
he became envious and longed for new things. His 
wealth made everything easy for him, he was held in 
great respect, and men honored him; yet as his reputa¬ 
tion increased so did his ambition; he yearned for even 
higher honors and greater power. Such ambitious 
thoughts and plans prevented Keang-Njamo from en¬ 
joying what he had in peace and contentment and drove 


KEANG-NJAMO 33 

sleep from his eyes. At last he decided that all would 
be different, and he would be truly happy if he were 
king. Then there would be no one whom he need obey, 
and there would be no one for him to envy. No sooner 
said than done. He once more went to Allah, in order 
to tell him his wish. And for the third time Allah 
patiently heard his wish and granted it. In a few days’ 
time Keang-Njamo was chosen king. 

And now that this last wish of his heart also had been 
granted, Keang-Njamo increased in wealth and power 
and in wisdom. His kingdom grew ever larger, he be¬ 
came famous everywhere and enjoyed the respect of all. 
It seemed as though at last he must be content and 
happy. Yet, deep down in his heart, there was a thorn. 
There was still one being who was higher and more 
honored than he was, and that was Allah himself. This 
thought came to Keang-Njamo again and again, and he 
could not rid himself of it. At length his good fortune 
no longer brought him happiness, and envy gave him 
no peace by night or day. For a long time he racked 
his brain as to what could be done about it, until he 
finally made up his mind, and went to Allah for the 
fourth time. When Allah saw him he was much sur¬ 
prised and cried: “Why do you come to me again? 
What is it you lack now?” And Keang-Njamo an¬ 
swered: “Well, you see, first I was a bit of fibre cloth, 
then you made a man of me, you made me rich and, 
finally, you made me king. Yet there is still something 


34 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


wanting to make me happy. I am still not content.” 
“And what is it that you want now?” asked Allah. 
“Well,” said Keang-Njamo, “I should like to be like 
you. I should like to be Allah myself. Then I would 
be satisfied!” When Allah heard these words a sudden 
great darkness spread around him, and from out that 
darkness his voice spoke to Keang-Njamo and said: 
“In the beginning you were a bit of fibre cloth. Be a bit 
of fibre cloth again!” And in the twinkling of an eye 
Keang-Njamo again found himself hanging on his old 
stand near the fire. Once more he was a bit of fibre 
cloth, hard and dried up, in the smoke of the hearth. 


THE MAN WHO CAME BACK FROM 
TLALOCAN 


/^\NCE upon a time in the Land of the Jewel-Fish, 
where the flowers stand upright, there were two 
brothers, Quauchtli and Mixtli. They lived in the 
House of the Warriors, in Chich’en Itza. Both 
brothers were brave, both were handsome, both were 
graceful. Quauchtli was a master of the sword, while 
Mixtli was the best among the archers. When they 
danced in their rich dresses of colored feathers, none 
could say which was the better dancer. Yet Mixtli had 
one great failing: he was envious by nature. He valued 
nothing until some one else had it, and then he wanted 
it for himself. 

Now among the fair maidens of Chich’en Itza was 
one named Xochitl. Quauchtli had won her heart 
and the promise of her hand. Until that moment Mix¬ 
tli had never given her a thought. But when he learned 
that she loved his brother, he at once grew envious of 
Quauchtli and began to plan to win her away from him. 
But Xochitl would have nothing to do with Mixtli. 
She refused his gifts and, when he persisted in trying 
to make her like him, she forbade him to visit her 
35 


36 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

home. Then Mixtli decided to gain by foul means 
what he could not win by fair. 

Near the temple of Kukulcan was a great, square 
well, which had been there since the beginning of time. 
For hundreds of years the people of Chich’en Itza had 
cast offerings into it—silver, gold and precious stones— 
for it was not like other wells. It went down, down, 
down, into the heart of the earth and beyond until Tla- 
locan, the paradise of the water-god, was reached. If 
you spoke a prayer at the well when the first ray of 
dawn touched the water and weighted it with a jewel 
of gold or a precious stone, the prayer was sure to 
reach Tlaloc, the water-god, and be heard. 

To this well the two brothers went one morning be¬ 
fore dawn. Quauchtli was going to cast his turquoise 
dancing-mask, the most precious thing he possessed, 
into the well with a prayer that Tlaloc hasten the day 
of his marriage with the fair Xochitl. When he had 
told Mixtli what he meant to do, the latter offered to 
go with him, for an evil plan had ripened in his mind. 
The dawn was coming over the hills when they reached 
the well and not another soul was in sight. Standing 
on the stone coping which rose a foot above the dark 
surface, Quauchtli leaned over as the first sunray 
touched it, to throw in his offering. As he did so, 
Mixtli, who stood behind him, gave him a push, and 
he fell head-foremost into the well. For a moment 
Mixtli stood and waited, but only a few bubbles rose 


THE MAN FROM TLALOCAN 


37 


and broke on the dark mirror of the water. So envious 
Mixtli went his way, satisfied that now Xochtli never 
would be his brother’s bride. 

In the House of the Warriors he pretended to grieve, 
and told how Quauchtli had lost his balance as he stood 
on the brink of the well and had fallen in. And from 
the House of the Warriors he went to the home of 
Xochtli, who fell like a broken lily at his feet when 
she heard his news. Then he went to the temple. 
Here the chief priest said to him: “Quauchtli has gone 
to Tlalocan. He will never return. Even a feather 
thrown in the water of the holy well is drawn down to 
the land of the departed and is lost to earth. Yet Qua¬ 
uchtli, who is a warrior, will hang his head with shame 
if he has to walk among the other shades without his 
arms. At noon, when the sun-god stands midway 
between east and west, I will offer sacrifices, and 
you shall cast into the well your brother’s warrior dress 
and his sword.” 

When noon came Mixtli went with the priests to the 
well, and Xochitl, too, was there. The priests sang 
hymns and burned fragrant copal gum, and Mixtli 
took his brother’s warrior dress of plumes and his great 
jade-stone sword and raised them above his head, to 
fling them into the water. But at that very moment 
there was a bubbling and boiling in the middle of the 
well and suddenly, as though driven by some unseen 
force, a figure shot halfway out of the water. It was 


38 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


Quauchtli. The priests, in their surprise, stopped sing¬ 
ing and the pans of incense fell from their hands. 
Mixtli stood with mouth wide open, still holding the 
feather dress and sword above his head. But Xochitl 
gave a glad cry, as Quauchtli swam to the coping 
of the well and climbed out. Then, when he had caught 
his breath, he told his tale. 

“When I struck the water,” he said, “I tried to 
turn and swim to the surface. But the water was so 
light that I could not. It was so light that I felt as 
though I were falling through the air. I went down 
and down, faster and faster, and my turquoise dancing- 
mask, which had slipped from my fingers, sank below 
me as fast as I did. At last I lost my senses and when 
they returned I was lying on a shore of silver sand, 
upon which the dark waters had cast me. I was in a 
cool and pleasant land where a clear, blue light shone 
over meadows full of fragrant flowers. White butter¬ 
flies and humming-birds with gold and azure feathers 
fluttered about in the air, and sweet-tongued birds sang 
in the trees. Among the flowers walked the shades of 
the departed. When they saw me they hurried down 
to the edge of the river and surrounded me. But I 
could not see their faces, for they held them turned 
away from me. And one of them said: ‘Only those 
whom Tlaloc calls to him by the road of lightning or 
flowing water can stay in the paradise of Tlalocan! 
The feet of the living, whom Tlaloc has not called, have 



“A figure shot halfway out of the water” 






















































THE MAN FROM TLALOCAN 


39 


no right to tread these silver sands. Yet the water-god 
knows you are not to blame for being here. So he bids 
you return again to the land of the living!’ And with 
that the shadows of the departed crowded about me 
and urged me into the water once more. And no sooner 
had I entered the river than it seized me and carried 
me along as before, swiftly and ever more swiftly, until 
it flung me up, here in the middle of the holy well.” 

But Quauchtli said not a word about Mixtli’s having 
pushed him into the well, and this filled Mixtli with 
shame and repentance. As soon as they were alone he 
confessed that the evil spirits of envy and hatred had 
led him to do what he did, and begged Quauchtli’s for¬ 
giveness. Quauchtli was as kind as he was generous. 
He bore Mixtli no grudge and forgave him, and from 
that day on Mixtli never again envied another. Some¬ 
times, when he saw a beautiful jewel, or a lovely maiden 
whose heart belonged to another, the old jealous feel¬ 
ing stirred in his breast. But as soon as it did he 
closed his eyes and saw himself standing behind 
Quauchtli, as the latter bent over the water of the well, 
and then his envy vanished. 

And not in vain had Quauchtli offered his turquoise 
dancing-mask to Tlaloc. The king of Chich’en Itza, 
when he heard the tale of his visit to the land of the 
cool blue clouds, was pleased to think that the water- 
god had not robbed him of so good a swordsman. He 
gave the young warrior a gift of gold and a house of 


4 o WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

white stone, and since there was nothing to prevent, 
Quauchtli married Xochitl and they lived long and 
happily. And if you do not believe that Quauchtli ever 
visited Tlalocan, you need only to go to Chich’en Itza, 
in the land of Yucatan. The well is still there and you 
can see it with your own eyes. 


THE GREEN BIRD 


/^\NCE upon a time there was a king who had a little 
daughter whom he loved better than anything else 
in the world. One day, when he was playing on a ter¬ 
race of the palace with his little Maruzza, for that was 
her name, a soothsayer went by and shook his head as he 
looked at the child. At once the king became very 
angry and ordered the soothsayer seized and brought 
before him. “Why did you shake your head when 
you saw my daughter?” he asked. “Alas, Your Maj¬ 
esty, I did so without thinking,” answered the stargazer. 
“If you do not at once tell me the real reason,” replied 
the king, “I will have you thrown in the deepest of the 
castle dungeons.” So the poor soothsayer had to obey, 
and what he told made sorry hearing: “When the little 
princess is eleven years old,” said he, “misfortune is 
sure to overtake her!” 

This prophecy made the king very unhappy, and he 
had a tall tower without windows built in a lonely part 
of the land. In this tower he shut up his little daughter 
with a maid, but he often came to visit her and took 
pleasure, as Maruzza grew up, in seeing her become 
taller and more beautiful day by day. There never 
was any meat with bones served at her meals, so that 
41 


42 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

no harm could happen to her. But, when she was 
nearly eleven years old, the maid brought in a portion 
of roast kid for her dinner one day, and unfortunately 
a sharp bit of bone in the meat had been overlooked. 
Maruzza found it and wanted to play with it, yet, since 
she knew the maid would take it away from her if she 
saw it, she hid it behind a chest. 

When she was alone again, she took it out and began 
to scrape the wall with it. Now it happened that there 
was a hollow place in the wall where she was scraping, 
and soon she had bored a little hole through the wall. 
Curiosity led her to keep on until the opening was 
large enough for her to put her head through it. And 
then, for the first time, she saw all the brightly colored 
flowers and the blue sky and the radiant sun, and took 
such pleasure in the sight that she spent the whole day 
looking out of the hole in the wall. When the waitress 
came into the room, she quickly drew a little curtain 
across the hole, which hid it. Thus some time went 
by. But one day, at the very moment she became eleven 
years old, there was a rustling in the air, and through 
the hole in the wall flew a beautiful, radiant green bird, 
which said: “I am a bird and become a man!” And at 
once it turned into a handsome youth. 

Maruzza was much frightened and was about to call 
for help, when he said in a friendly manner: “Noble 
lady, do not be afraid of me, for I shall do you no harm. 
I am an enchanted prince, and must remain enchanted 


THE GREEN BIRD 


43 


for many a long weary year. Yet, if you want to wait 
for me, then some day you shall be my bride.” When 
Maruzza heard the prince talk so nicely, she felt more 
confidence in him, and soon they were chatting to¬ 
gether like old friends. But when the hour had passed 
he turned into a bird again and left her, promising to 
come again the following day. And, true enough, he 
came back every noon, at twelve o’clock, and as soon as 
the clock struck one, off he flew through the hole in 
the wall. 

When a year had gone by, the king, Maruzza’s father, 
thought that any danger which threatened her must 
have passed, so he came in a splendid coach and four 
and took her to the royal castle. Yet Maruzza was 
not happy in her father’s beautiful palace. The mys¬ 
terious, green bird, whom she had learned to love, no 
longer came to see her; and she grew so melancholy 
that she forgot how to laugh, and did not want to leave 
her room. So the king, her father, had proclaimed 
throughout the land that he would richly reward who¬ 
soever could make his daughter laugh again. 

Among his subjects who heard the proclamation was 
a little old woman who lived in the hills, and she de¬ 
cided to go and see the king. On the way she met a 
muleteer who was driving before him a mule, laden 
with bags of money. “Give me a handful of your 
money!” she begged him. The muleteer answered: “I 
cannot give you any here on the road, but if you want 


44 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

to go with me to the castle, where I have to deliver 
the sacks, then you may have a handful.” So the old 
woman went along until they came to a wonderfully 
beautiful palace, in which dwelt twelve fairies. In the 
great hall of the palace the muleteer opened his sacks 
and carelessly let the coined gold roll out upon the 
floor. And when the old woman saw that here money 
meant nothing, she lost all desire for it. On the other 
hand, she went through the palace and looked at every¬ 
thing. The great hall was splendidly furnished, for 
chairs, tables and beds were all made of the purest gold. 
And at last she came to a room in which stood a golden 
table set with twelve golden dishes and goblets, and in 
front of the table stood twelve golden chairs. The 
very next room was the kitchen, and there stood the 
twelve fairies, all in a row, and each had a golden fire¬ 
place in which she was cooking her soup in a golden 
kettle. When the soup was ready, the fairies took their 
kettles from the fire and put them on the table. 

Now the old woman, seeing that they did not notice 
her, felt she must call attention to herself: “Noble 
ladies,” said she, “since you say not a word to me, I 
hope you will not object if I help myself!” And with 
that she took up a golden spoon and took some of the 
soup. But no sooner was she about to place the spoon 
in her mouth than the hot soup flew into her face and 
burned it. And at the same moment there was a 
rustling in the air, and the green bird flew into the 


THE GREEN BIRD 


45 


chamber. “I am a bird and become a man!” it said, 
and at once turned into a handsome prince, who wailed 
and wrung his hands and cried: “Ah, Maruzza, my 
Maruzza, have I lost you for good and all? Shall I 
never find you again?” The fairies surrounded him 
and tried to comfort him, but the old woman quietly 
left the fairy palace, “For,” thought she to herself, “I 
must tell the young princess this tale and if it does not 
make her laugh, then nothing else will!” 

When she reached the royal castle, she asked to see 
the king, and said she had come to make his daughter 
laugh again. So the king took her to his daughter’s 
room and left them alone together. Then the old 
woman commenced to tell how the muleteer had led 
her to the fairy palace, and how she had burned her 
mouth when she wanted to swallow the soup. Ma¬ 
ruzza began to laugh happily when she heard this, and 
the king, who was listening outside, heard her laugh¬ 
ing and was glad that the miracle had taken place. But 
the old woman went on and said: “Wait until I finish, 
your Highness!” And she told her of the green bird 
which had turned into a handsome prince and was 
sorrowing for his beloved Maruzza. 

Then Maruzza became quite happy and said: “My 
father shall give you a rich gift, and you will get the 
same from me if you will call for me to-morrow at the 
same hour and take me to the palace of the twelve 
fairies.” This the old woman promised to do, and she 


46 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

really did come to call for the princess the next day, 
and led her over hill and dale, a long distance, until 
they reached the palace in which the twelve fairies 
dwelt. There the twelve fairies were again busy at 
their golden fireplaces, and were just carrying the soup 
into the next room to eat it. “See, your Highness,” 
said the old woman, “this is how I tried to get a spoon¬ 
ful of soup the other day!” With that she took a little 
soup in a golden spoon. But as soon as she tried to 
lift it to her mouth the hot soup again flew into her 
face. “Let me try it,” said Maruzza, laughing. She 
took some soup in a golden spoon, and lo and behold, 
she had no trouble at all in getting it into her mouth! 

Suddenly there was a rustling through the air, and 
the green bird flew in and turned into a handsome 
prince. And when he began to wail and lament again: 
“Alas, Maruzza, my Maruzza!” the king’s daughter 
threw herself into his arms and called out: “Here I 
am!” But at that the prince grew very sad and said: 
“Alas, Maruzza, what have you done? Why did you 
come here? Now I must leave, and without ever rest¬ 
ing must fly for seven years, seven days, seven hours 
and seven minutes!” “What?” cried Maruzza, “you 
are going to leave me now when I have been so sad 
because of you, and have come this long, long way to 
find you?” The prince answered: “I cannot help it. 
Yet if you wish to save me from my fate, you must do 
as I tell you.” With that he led her to a terrace and 


THE GREEN BIRD 


47 


said: “If you will wait here for me seven years, seven 
days, seven hours and seven minutes, whether it rain 
or whether it shine, without eating, drinking, or speak¬ 
ing, then I will be delivered and we can be happily 
married!” Then he turned into a green bird once 
more and flew away. 

So poor, faithful Maruzza sat on the terrace, and 
when the fairies came and begged her to come into 
the palace she sadly shook her head and remained sit¬ 
ting in her corner, neither eating nor drinking, and 
never a word crossed her lips. Thus she waited seven 
years, seven days, seven hours and seven minutes, in 
storm and rain and burning sunshine. Her delicate 
fair skin turned black, her fresh, dainty face faded and 
her slender limbs grew stiff. 

When the seven years had passed there was a rus¬ 
tling in the air, the green bird came flying up and 
turned into a handsome prince. The two flew into 
each other’s arms with tears, and Maruzza cried: 
“Now you are delivered and all our troubles are at an 
end!” But when the prince saw how black and ugly 
she had grown he no longer cared for her and—though 
not all men are so—thrust her away from him and said: 
“What do you want of me? I do not know you?” 
Maruzza, sobbing, answered: “Did I not leave my 
dear father for your sake? Have I not waited here 
seven years, seven days, seven hours and seven minutes 
for your sake, in drizzling rain and burning sun, 


48 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

neither eating nor drinking nor saying a word?” But 
the prince merely answered: “And you mean to tell me 
you have suffered all these hardships for the sake of 
a mere man?” And with that he turned his back on 
her and left her. 

Poor Maruzza sank to earth, weeping bitterly, while 
the kind fairies comforted her and said: “Never mind, 
Maruzza, you shall be ten times more beautiful than 
you were before!” And they led her into the palace 
and for many days washed her with rosewater until 
she was quite fair again and so beautiful that no one 
would have recognized her. Then Maruzza took her 
way to the country where the young prince lived with 
the old queen, his mother, and the fairies went with 
her, and during the night built a wonderful house 
directly opposite the royal palace. 

When the prince looked out of his window in the 
morning, he was surprised to see the glittering palace 
across the way, for it was far more splendid than his 
own. And while he gazed in astonishment, Maruzza 
appeared at the window opposite, in silken robes and 
as fair as a blossoming rose, so that the prince could 
not take his eyes from her. He did not recognize her, 
so he bowed low and tried to address her. But Ma¬ 
ruzza slammed down the window in his face. “Oho!” 
thought the prince, “who may this lady be who thinks 
she is better than I am?” He called in his mother to 
tell him, but she did not know, nor did any one else. 


THE GREEN BIRD 


49 


Then the prince appeared on his balcony whenever 
he saw Maruzza in her window across the way; but 
as soon as he tried to greet her and speak to her, she 
proudly turned her back on him and closed the win¬ 
dow. So the prince grew sad, for he would have 
liked to marry this beautiful girl. “Mother,” said he 
one day to the old queen, “do me a favor and visit the 
beautiful lady who lives opposite! Make her a pres¬ 
ent, in my name, of my most valuable circlet, and ask 
her whether she will marry me.” 

So the old queen went across into lovely Maruzza’s 
palace, with a servant carrying the golden circlet, all 
glittering with pearls and precious stones, before her 
on a silver platter. When Maruzza heard that the 
queen had arrived and wished to speak to her, she hur¬ 
ried to meet her and said: “Ah, your Majesty, why did 
you not send for me to come to you, instead of taking 
the trouble to call on me? It was my place to kneel at 
your feet!” And she led her into the finest room in 
her palace, all shining with gold and jewels, and said: 
“How can I serve your Majesty?” Said the queen: 
“My son has sent me to you. He offers you his hand, 
and has sent you his circlet as a sign of his affection.” 
“But that is too great an honor,” answered Maruzza, 
“Your son should marry some rich, high born princess 
and not a poor girl like myself. I am not worthy of 
so great an honor!” And while she spoke, she took 
up the precious circlet and tore it into small bits. 


50 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

Then she clapped her hands and cried: “Kur, kur, kur, 
kur!” and into the room came the twelve fairies. They 
had turned themselves into twelve little white geese, 
and eagerly gobbled up the precious stones and links 
of gold scattered on the floor. 

Then the old queen was speechless with anger and 
astonishment. “Your Majesty,” said Maruzza, “why 
do you look so angry? I always feed my little geese 
gold and jewels.” She beckoned a servant and he 
brought in a bowl filled with valuable circlets, brace¬ 
lets and jeweled chains, and she tore them all to pieces 
and scattered them to the geese. 

So the poor queen had to return home, filled with 
shame, and when Maruzza had escorted her to the 
door, she went back and quickly stood in the window. 
In his own balcony the prince was waiting for a sign. 
But Maruzza only glanced at him, and then turned 
her back and closed the window with a bang. So, be¬ 
fore his mother had brought him his answer, the prince 
knew that Maruzza had rejected him. Yet he could 
not help stepping out on his balcony every morning 
and looking at Maruzza, who always treated him with 
the same disdain. 

After a time the prince again said to his mother: 
“Mother, for my sake, visit the noble lady opposite 
once more and ask her whether she will marry me!” 
“Alas, my son,” answered his mother, “remember how 
cruelly she treated me!” But the prince said: 


THE GREEN BIRD 


5i 


“Mother, if you love me, do as I ask and take my royal 
crown to her in my name!” And he took the crown 
from his head and gave it to the old queen, his mother, 
and the old queen allowed herself to be persuaded to 
visit the beautiful and haughty Maruzza once more, 
for what will a mother not do for love of her son? 

When Maruzza saw her coming she hastened to 
meet her and received her with great politeness. 
Then when they had seated themselves she asked: “And 
how may I serve you?” Said the queen: “My son begs 
you once more to marry him and as a sign of his love, 
he sends you the golden crown from his head.” “Ah, 
noble Queen,” answered Maruzza, “how can I accept 
such a favor? Your son cannot take a poor girl like 
myself to wife.” With that she called in her cook and 
said: “Here, cook, take this golden crown, it will do 
very well for a hoop in one of my kettles!” To the 
queen, however, who grew pale with anger, she said: 
“Your Majesty, why do you turn pale? I always have 
golden hoops around my kettles.” So she called the 
cook back, and he brought a number of kettles, and 
they all were of pure gold and had golden hoops be¬ 
sides. The queen went home with her head hanging, 
but Maruzza hurried to the window to let the prince 
know his answer. 

Now the poor prince was so deeply grieved by this 
refusal that he fell ill and every one thought he would 
die. Yet he did not forget his love and as soon as he 


52 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

could speak he called his mother to his bed and said: 
“Mother, I pray you, go to this cruel girl again! Tell 
her that if she refuses me for good and all I will fall 
down dead at her feet!” With tears and quite broken 
by shame the poor mother—for mother love will dare 
all things—went for the third time to Maruzza. And, 
her tears still falling, she spoke her message: “If you 
refuse him for good and all he surely will die, for he 
cannot live without you.” Then Maruzza replied: 
“Tell your son that if, out of love for me, he is willing 
to be carried in a coffin from his palace to mine, with 
the church bells tolling and monks chanting the mass 
for the dead, the priest will be waiting here to marry 
us!” 

With this fearful answer the queen returned to her 
son. But when he heard it, he leaped up out of bed, 
his illness forgotten and, without a moment’s hesita¬ 
tion, had a splendid coffin made in which he lay down. 
Then he ordered the bells of all the churches in the 
city to toll and, accompanied by monks carrying wax 
tapers and singing the mass for the dead, he had him¬ 
self carried from his palace to Maruzza’s home. And 
Maruzza, royally clad, stood in her balcony and 
looked down on the sad procession. 

When the coffin was just beneath her window, how¬ 
ever, she leaned over and said, in a loud voice: “And 
for love of a mere woman you were willing to lie in a 
coffin, a living, dead man?” At once, when she said this, 


THE GREEN BIRD 


53 


the prince recognized her and cried: “O Maruzza, 
Maruzza, forgive me!” And hearing him plead so ten¬ 
derly and sadly, her heart melted, and she hurried 
down to him and said: “Yes, I am your own Maruzza! 
But I wanted you to know yourself how great was the 
sorrow you made me feel! Yet now all shall be for¬ 
gotten and forgiven, and the priest is waiting to marry 
us!” 

Then a splendid wedding-feast followed, the prince 
became king and Maruzza queen, and if nothing has 
happened to them they are still living in happiness and 
contentment. 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 


O NCE upon a time, on his return from a victorious 
campaign against the Persians and rebellious 
Kurds, the Sultan Selim encamped near Mallatia, in 
order to let his soldiers rest during the hot midsummer 
months which retard the movements of great bodies of 
troops. Yet, though he had his soldiers compete in 
athletic contests, rewarding the victors with prizes, 
and himself practiced to keep up his mastery of lance, 
bow, arrow and scimitar, he grew weary of the monot¬ 
ony of camp life. What he enjoyed best was to make 
long excursions, sometimes afoot, sometimes on horse¬ 
back, into the country around Mallatia, accompanied 
only by a young general, Achmet Pascha, who had 
done great service during the campaign. At such 
times the Sultan dressed very simply, in order that the 
country folk whom he met and with whom he talked 
might not know his rank and feel at ease, and Achmet 
Pascha also laid aside all signs of his high rank. 

One day their aimless wandering brought the Sultan 
and his companion to a little stream, whose crystal 
clear waters bubbled over a bed of colored pebbles 
before leaping down into a valley. Old trees, casting 
a delightful shade, stood on its banks, and beneath 
54 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 


55 


them soft, green grass offered rest and refreshment 
after their long walk along the white, hot, empty high¬ 
way. Selim flung himself down beneath a tree and, 
since the hour had come, he said his second prayer 
with all devotion. Then he seated himself on the grass 
beside the stream and told his companion to sit down 
beside him. Lost in thought, they looked into the 
water hurrying by at their feet, until its pleasant 
monotonous murmur lulled them asleep. Suddenly 
the Sultan Selim heard himself called by name. He 
opened his eyes but, aside from Achmet Pascha, who 
still was fast asleep, and the silent fish with silver fins 
which played in the water, there was not a living crea¬ 
ture to be seen. The Sultan, thinking he had been 
dreaming, already had closed his eyes again, when he 
heard his name called a second time and, looking in the 
direction whence the voice seemed to come, he saw a 
beautiful golden-yellow apple swimming toward him 
from the other side of the stream, so that all he had to 
do was to stretch out his hand and seize it. The apple 
was ripe and cooling and afforded Selim welcome re¬ 
freshment in the heat of the day. He ate it slowly and 
enjoyed it. Suddenly, however, he felt something hard 
as stone between his teeth, and when he took it from 
his mouth, he held in his hand a black pearl—never 
had he seen one so beautiful—shaped like an apple 
core. 

The Sultan now woke the sleeping Achmet and 


56 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

showed him the strange jewel, telling him how it had 
come into his possession. Both carefully tested the 
pearl, and Achmet Pascha said: “It is in truth a valu¬ 
able jewel!” 

Then the Sultan became thoughtful. He remem¬ 
bered the just law of his land. According to it any 
object found, whether more or less valuable, did not 
become the finder’s property until, in spite of his ut¬ 
most endeavor, he had been unable to discover the 
owner. Once the owner was found, it was left to his 
generosity to reward the one who had returned his 
property. 

“We must try,” said the Sultan, “to find the owner 
of the apple I so thoughtlessly ate in order that I may 
return this pearl.” And both followed the shady foot¬ 
path by the side of the stream until, at the end of an 
hour’s walk, they saw above the spot where the Sultan 
had found the apple, a high wall, across whose top an 
old apple tree stretched forth its great branches till they 
overarched the stream. And from its branches hung 
many beautiful golden apples like the one Selim had 
eaten. 

“Here we will find the owner of the apple 1 ” said 
Selim. 

So he and Achmet made the round of the wall until 
they came to a narrow gate which, after they had 
knocked for a long time, was opened for them by an 
old woman. She had long since reached the years when 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 


57 


a woman may show her unveiled face to a man, yet she 
wore a veil, and only her hard eyes and severe voice 
showed that she was of an unfriendly disposition. 

“Why do you knock?” she asked. “If you are in 
need of refreshment, wait here, and I will bring it to 
you. But I cannot take you in.” 

“We are not in need of refreshment nor do we ask 
for shelter,” answered Selim. “We bring you this pearl, 
which I found in one of your apples that the stream 
had carried down to me.” 

“Where is the apple?” asked the woman. 

“I ate it up.” 

“You know that you had no right to do so.” 

“That I knew. And that is why I have come to beg 
you to make me a present of it.” 

“I will not make you a present of it.” 

“Then sell it to me.” 

“I will not sell it to you.” 

“Then give it to me as a reward for finding this valu¬ 
able pearl, which I return to you.” 

“I do not want the pearl without the apple. Keep 
it unrightfully, as you did the apple, or throw it away, 
as you ate the apple; but know that you are breaking 
the law, and that you will suffer the consequences of 
your disobedience.” 

“You are very severe.” 

“I am what I am, but I have never broken the law.” 

“Then you refuse to make me the rightful owner of 


58 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

the apple and the pearl under any condition?” asked the 
Sultan Selim, who was an honest and pious man. 

“Only on one condition.” 

“Name it.” 

“That you marry my daughter.” 

“How old is your daughter? Is she beautiful? Is 
she faithful and true?” 

“No stranger has ever seen her face. As for the rest, 
she may be forty years old, or she may be lame, hump¬ 
backed or blind. You must take her as she is. After 
the wedding you may see whether she pleases you.” 

The Sultan thought for a few moments. If the 
woman’s daughter were old and homely, humpbacked 
or lame, he could give her his blessing and dismiss her 
with rich gifts. That would be better than breaking a 
just law. “I will take your daughter for my wife,” he 
said. “Call the imam and the witnesses, and my com¬ 
panion will represent me at the wedding. Here, take 
back the pearl 1” 

“Since you are marrying my daughter,” said the old 
woman, “you become the lawful owner of what you 
have found, for I give you the pearl.” After the wed¬ 
ding the Sultan saw that his bride was neither old nor 
homely, but instead a charming young creature, so he 
became very fond of her and settled down to live in her 
mother’s home. While there, Achmet Pascha brought 
him daily reports of all that went on in the camp, re¬ 
ceived the Sultan’s orders and saw that they were car- 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 


59 


ried out. One day he informed his master that the 
greater part of the army already was well on the road 
back to Istamboul, and that only the rearguard re¬ 
mained at Mallatia. It would be advisable for them 
to march at once, lest they be cut off from the rest of 
the host. 

The Sultan prepared to take leave of his wife, who 
did not know that he was the Sultan. He now told her 
who he was, gave her a great sum of money, a bracelet 
and a broad armlet, both of purest gold. The bracelet 
was small and fragile, meant for the wrist of a delicate 
woman. The armlet had been wrought by a skillful 
goldsmith, whom the Sultan had called to Mallatia, 
and in the middle were three jewels of great value. It 
was intended for a strong man’s upper arm, and was 
cunningly worked with beautiful arabesques. In the 
middle of the bracelet, surrounded by diamonds and 
rubies, glowed the black pearl which Selim had found 
in the apple. Beneath it, deeply graven in old Arabic 
letters, was a verse from the Koran: “Whoso is just, 
him will Allah reward beyond his deserts, but the 
unjust he will punish justly, for Allah is merciful and 
kind!” 

“Take these two circlets,” said the Sultan to his 
weeping wife; “one of them is for our son, should Allah 
see fit to send us one. The other is for you. Give the 
armlet to the boy when he is of age and wishes to leave 
his home. Then, but not before, you may tell him the 


6 o WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


name of his father. He must carry the armlet on his 
arm beneath his shirt and guard it like a talisman, men¬ 
tioning it to none. But I, should fate bring us together, 
will recognize him by it. Allah, if such be his wish, 
will lead him to me. Yet he is not to seek me out of his 
own accord.” 

In due time a beautiful boy was born to Selim’s wife, 
who named him Ibrahim, brought him up carefully and 
had him instructed in the holy writings. His childhood 
was a happy one, and he had plenty of playmates, 
though none knew of his lofty descent. He excelled all 
his playmates in good looks, courage and kindliness, and 
his constant companion was Abdullah, the son of his 
mother’s gardener, of an age with himself, and also 
gifted with much charm of manner and determination. 

When Ibrahim was seventeen years old he longed to 
see something of the world and so told his mother. She 
did not deny his wish, and, after she had told him his 
father’s name, prepared everything for his departure, 
supplied him liberally with money, and finally clasped 
the Sultan’s golden armlet on his arm. As she did so 
she repeated Selim’s last words: “Keep the armlet hid¬ 
den, guard it like a talisman and tell no one of it. Your 
father will recognize you by the armlet should fate 
bring you together, but you must not seek out the Sultan 
yourself, and are forbidden to call him father before 
he has greeted you as his son!” 

When Ibrahim came to say farewell to his friend Ab- 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 


61 

dullah, the latter said: “It is written: ‘He who goes 
alone is helplessly exposed to twofold danger. Choose 
a comrade to go with you.’ If you wish, I will accom¬ 
pany you, for I, too, would like to make the acquaint¬ 
ance of strange cities and people.” 

The next day Ibrahim and Abdullah left their home 
and followed the road to distant Istamboul, full of cour¬ 
age and happy anticipation. When but two days dis¬ 
tant from the city, however, they were attacked by rob¬ 
bers one evening near an Anatolian village, and all they 
had was taken from them. The robbers were so 
pleased with the unexpectedly rich haul they had made, 
that they let the youths keep their clothes, and even 
made each of them a present of two gold pieces, so that 
they might reach Istamboul without having to beg 
their way. 

A few hours later Ibrahim and Abdullah sat on the 
porch of a peasant’s hut—he had hospitably taken them 
in when they told him of their misfortunes—and con¬ 
sidered what best they might do to gain a living after 
the small sum of money the robbers had given them 
had disappeared. Ibrahim said: 

“I know of one way to help us out of our difficulty,” 
and when Abdullah begged him to explain, he told him 
the story of his birth but, at the same time, he was care¬ 
ful to say nothing of the golden armlet, since his 
mother had bidden him not to mention it. Yet Abdul¬ 
lah was not encouraged by what Ibrahim had told him. 


62 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


“If you are to wait until the Sultan calls you, you 
will have to wait a long time,” said he. “You yourself 
cannot approach him without being punished for dis¬ 
obedience, for your mother has given you your father’s 
commands. Of what use, then, is your supposed high 
descent. It is possible that your mother was deceived 
by some stranger who unrightly made use of the Sul¬ 
tan’s name.” 

“I beg of you, Abdullah,” said Ibrahim, “not to insult 
me by taking for granted that my father was not an hon¬ 
est man!” 

“I did not wish to insult you,” replied Abdullah. 
“It was careless of me to mention a baseless suspicion 
which entered my mind. I do not doubt but that your 
father spoke the truth.” 

A few days later the two youths, with no special ob¬ 
ject in view, were straying through the streets of Istam- 
boul. Their small fund of money already was half 
gone, and the future looked very dark. They walked 
along so gloomily that the attention of a good-natured 
man who kept a coffee-house near the imperial palace 
was drawn to them. 

“Young gentlemen,” said he, “you seem weighed 
down with care. You move along the street like feeble 
old men, with bent necks and downcast eyes. Probably 
you are strangers from a distant part of the empire. If 
so, and if you need the advice of an old resident of 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 63 

Stamboul, then speak. I will do whatever I can to aid 
you.” 

The coffee-house keeper’s kind words and face won 
the hearts of the youths. They told him how they had 
been attacked and robbed of their money when near 
Istamboul and added that any advice he could give 
them in their present straitened position would be 
welcome. 

“Have you learned a trade?” asked the coffee-house 
keeper. “I am a gardener,” answered Abdullah. 

“I have learned to write and read,” Ibrahim added. 

“I think I can find employment for you,” said the 
coffee-house keeper. “Many people visit my coffee¬ 
house, and I will find out whether one or the other can 
use a gardener or a scribe. Meanwhile you can make 
yourselves useful here, and thus need not worry about 
food and lodging for the moment.” 

Ibrahim and Abdullah gratefully accepted his offer 
and found that their work was not hard. All they had 
to do was to carry out the orders of those who visited 
the coffee-house promptly and courteously, bring one a 
cup of coffee, another a pipe, a third a glass of water. 
. . . Soon Ibrahim and Abdullah’s grace and good 
looks had made them universal favorites, and the coffee¬ 
house keeper found himself well repaid for the kind¬ 
ness which had prompted him to take them in. They 
drew many customers to his shop and, in fact, the fame 


64 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

of the two youths spread through the capital and finally 
reached the Sultan’s ears. The latter still loved to 
wander about Istamboul, disguised as a dervish, mer¬ 
chant or laborer, and on such occasions often visited 
coffee-houses and similar places of amusement. So, one 
day, he entered the coffee-house in which Ibrahim and 
Abdullah were employed. At once he recognized Ab¬ 
dullah as one of the youths whose amiability he had 
heard praised, and had him bring him coffee and 
and water. When they were set before him he said: 

“Where is your comrade? I should like to make his 
acquaintance.” 

“He is in the bazaar,” replied Abdullah. “The host 
sent him there early this morning, to buy coffee and 
sugar. He will return in an hour.” 

“From what part of the empire do you come?” 

“From the neighborhood of Mallatia, master 1 ” 

Now the Sultan wished to know more. “How old are 
you?” he asked. 

“I was born in the glorious year in which the Sultan 
Selim, after he had defeated the Persians, encamped 
for the summer on the outskirts of Mallatia.” 

When Abdullah had said this he was called to wait 
upon another guest, who had just entered. The Sultan 
looked after him thoughtfully, for the long-forgotten 
past came back to memory. His thoughts dwelt on it 
with pleasure. It brought back his proud youth, the 
greatest victories of his stormy reign, and the face of a 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 


65 


lovely girl, to whom he owed three months of quiet 
happiness such as he never had known again. He re¬ 
called the clear stream which ran by the old wall, the 
silent house amid its gardens, the apple tree with its 
golden fruit, his beautiful young wife and his sad leave- 
taking from her. And he also thought of the bracelet 
and the golden armlet he had left with her, and the 
words he had said. Now he would gladly have known 
whether she and her child were still alive. He wished 
that he had not forbidden his son to seek him out, and 
had not ordered that he should wait patiently until fate 
brought them together. 

The coffee-house keeper had at once recognized the 
Sultan when he entered, for it was not the first time he 
had crossed his threshold. Yet he knew that he would 
be severely punished if he betrayed what he knew. So 
he passed him with the same greeting he gave any dis¬ 
tinguished guest, but did not lose sight of him. For all 
that the Sultan did not wish to be recognized, the coffee¬ 
house keeper would be held responsible for any annoy¬ 
ance he might have to suffer. So he called Abdullah 
to him as soon as the latter had left the Sultan and said: 

“Show special attention to the guest whom you have 
just left! He is a great lord. In fact—I tell you in 
confidence—it is the Sultan himself! But it might cost 
me my life if you betray my secret I” 

And then Abdullah was tempted. A voice seemed 
to whisper to him to pretend he was the Sultan’s son, 


66 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


and he forgot the saying in the Koran: “Seek help in 
prayer when the evil one leads you into temptation!” 

Abdullah lingered about the place where the Sultan 
was sitting, and soon the latter called him to him and 
put many questions to him regarding his home and 
family. Abdullah answered them with seeming open¬ 
ness, but in such a way that the Sultan soon felt con¬ 
vinced that his son was standing before him. For all 
that the youth told about the appearance of his supposed 
mother, the house in which he had been born, its garden 
and the surrounding country, agreed exactly with the 
Sultan’s own memories. Yet he wished to see whether 
his son would respect his father’s command not to thrust 
himself upon him, so he asked him: “Who was your 
father?” 

“I have never seen him,” Abdullah answered, eva¬ 
sively. 

“Did your mother never mention him to you?” the 
Sultan continued. 

“Abdullah pretended to be embarrassed and excited: 
“I beg of you, my lord, ask me no more questions! I 
would have to disobey my mother were I to answer 
them!” 

Soon after the Sultan left the coffee-house much 
pleased: he thought he had found his son as honorable 
a youth as he was handsome. 

That selfsame evening Abdullah was ordered to come 
to the imperial palace and soon after brought into the 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 67 

presence of the Sultan in whom, apparently surprised 
and overcome, he recognized the guest he had served in 
the coffeehouse a few hours before. 

“I have decided,” said Selim, after he had returned 
Abdullah’s respectful greeting in the gracious manner 
he reserved for near relatives, “to take you into my 
service. Your words and appearance have given me 
confidence in you. It will now depend upon your own 
actions whether you keep my favor and rise to high 
honors, or lose it I” 

Abdullah felt that the Sultan was warning him to 
act as he would toward any unknown benefactor. So 
cleverly did he take the hint that a few weeks after he 
had established himself in the imperial palace at the 
Sultan’s command, he already stood high in the favor 
of the man who thought himself his father. The court 
accepted him as the padischah’s declared favorite, and 
overwhelmed him with compliments and flatteries of 
every kind. Yet Abdullah was not content, for the 
thought of the deception he had practiced on poor Ibra¬ 
him deprived him of rest. He was haunted by the idea 
that chance might some time lead Ibrahim into the Sul¬ 
tan’s presence. Then Ibrahim might discover that he 
had been deceived by Abdullah, who had spoken of 
Ibrahim’s mother as though she were his own. And 
the fear that he might lose the high position he had 
gained hardened Abdullah’s heart and slowly filled it 
with deadly hatred for Ibrahim, in whom he saw a ter- 


68 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


rible obstacle to his own success. Gradually he formed 
the cruel resolve that his boyhood friend, who never 
had shown him aught but kindness, would have to be 
made away with. Yet he dared not hire a murderer to 
slay him, but thought out a plan by which he could gain 
his end in a manner which would not endanger himself. 

When Abdullah had moved over to the imperial pal¬ 
ace, he had told Ibrahim that the Sultan had taken a 
fancy to him and therefore had given him a place at 
court. “Perhaps I will get a chance to have you meet 
the Sultan,” he added; “in fact, I shall do my best to 
bring about a meeting.” 

“Do not do so,” had been Ibrahim’s reply. “I would 
be acting against the Sultan’s wish were I to try to gain 
his attention. Whatever is to be, will be!” 

But Abdullah had ceased to go in fear of Allah, and 
foolishly thought that he could make sure of his good 
fortune by committing a crime. He begged the Sultan’s 
permission to let Ibrahim keep him company in the 
palace. “He is the friend of my youth,” said he, “and 
I do not like to see him doing hard and menial labor in 
a coffee-house while I, thanks to your favor, dwell in 
luxury.” 

The Sultan readily granted his wish and praised him 
for not forgetting his friend. “It would be impossible 
for me to do so,” answered Abdullah, “for I love Ibra¬ 
him like a brother and would give my life for him.” 
And he did treat Ibrahim like a true friend. He gave 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 69 

him a room next to his own, in order, so he said, that 
they might not be separated. Then, showing him a 
great bag of gold the Sultan had given him, he said: 
“This belongs to us together. Take what you will of 
it!” But Ibrahim had no expensive habits and there¬ 
fore did not touch the gold. One evening the two 
friends were sitting on the divan in Abdullah’s room, 
talking of home, for Ibrahim was homesick. They had 
talked for a long time and—save for the guards—all 
seemed to have gone to bed in the palace when they 
finally separated. But no sooner had Ibrahim entered 
his room than he heard Abdullah’s voice softly calling 
him. He at once returned to the apartment he had left, 
and there saw his supposed friend, who had hastily 
slipped off kaftan, turban and girdle, advance on him, 
his face distorted with rage, and a long knife in his 
hand. 

Ibrahim was so surprised that he could not utter a 
word, and Abdullah gave him no time for reflection, 
for with dagger raised he seemed about to stab Ibrahim 
to death. Yet the latter was strong and agile. In an¬ 
other moment he had torn the knife from Abdullah and 
both youths, who a few minutes before had been chat¬ 
ting pleasantly side by side, now wrestled viciously with 
one another. Ibrahim’s only aim, however, was to 
render Abdullah harmless, for he thought he had sud¬ 
denly lost his reason. 

Abdullah offered but little resistance, so that it was 


70 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

easy for Ibrahim to fling him to the floor and hold him 
there. But then Abdullah began to shout for help in a 
loud and pitiful voice, which rang through the solemn 
silence of the palace and at once brought guards and 
servants hurrying to the room. They rushed to aid the 
padischah’s favorite and found him half clothed, his 
undergarment torn, lying on the floor, while Ibrahim 
knelt on his breast, trying to hold him down. When 
Abdullah saw the guards and attendants he cried: “Free 
me from this wretch, who has tried to rob and murder 
me!” His command was easily obeyed, for Ibrahim 
opposed no resistance to those who seized him. 

Abdullah, who with the aid of the servants had 
slowly risen, pointed to the knife and some gold pieces 
which lay scattered about the floor and said, sadly: 
“Why did you do this, Ibrahim? Was it necessary to 
murder me for the sake of yon wretched gold? Did I 
not tell you it was yours?” 

And Ibrahim was so surprised and astounded that he 
could not find a word to say. 

“Guard him carefully,” Abdullah continued, turning 
to the servants and guards, “for you shall answer with 
your lives if any harm be done him. To-morrow the 
judges will question him, and he may have some ex¬ 
planation for his actions.” 

So Ibrahim was led off and Abdullah remained alone. 
He lay down on his couch but could not sleep. The 
following morning the Sultan—who had been informed 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 


7i 


of all that had happened in his supposed son’s room— 
sent for him. He listened to Abdullah’s account with a 
frowning brow, and when the latter had ended, said: 
“Your friendship for Ibrahim has been rewarded with 
ingratitude, but the evildoer shall not escape his just 
deserts!” 

“Use mercy for right, O sublime Sultan!” said Ab¬ 
dullah; “perhaps Ibrahim’s mind was disturbed when 
he laid hand on me.” 

But the Sultan’s eyes were as hard as stone. “It is 
my business to decide this matter,” he replied. “Do not 
think you will be able to influence me, for I cannot be 
moved!” 

Ibrahim’s trial left no doubt in the minds of the 
judges as to his guilt. His truthful account sounded to 
them like a clumsy tissue of falsehoods. He had been 
found, knife in hand, kneeling on the breast of Abdul¬ 
lah, who lay half clothed on the floor, in his own apart¬ 
ment. Who could imagine that Abdullah would at¬ 
tack Ibrahim, his guest, whom he had shown the great¬ 
est friendship, as every one knew. And did not the gold 
pieces, Abdullah’s property, found on the floor where 
the two had been struggling, offer plain proof of the 
motive of Ibrahim’s criminal intention? 

Ibrahim himself soon realized that it was impossible 
for him to clear himself of suspicion. He resigned him¬ 
self to his fate and only said: “I am in Allah’s hand. 
If he has determined my death then I must die.” 


72 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

The Sultan condemned Ibrahim to death. At the 
same time he passed more rigid rules regarding the 
maintenance of order in the imperial palace and, in 
order to lend special weight to his orders, commanded 
that Ibrahim’s execution take place in one of the palace 
courtyards, in the presence of numerous officials and 
the greater part of the court. Abdullah also was or¬ 
dered to be present at the execution. 

In the middle of the courtyard a circular place had 
been covered with tan bark and yellow sand to the thick¬ 
ness of a finger. Then the Sultan appeared and seated 
himself on the edge of the circle on a high throne. 
Round about him stood the court, and directly opposite 
the Sultan was seated Abdullah, who was very pale. 
Slaves and attendants formed an outer circle around the 
Sultan and his courtiers. Soon Ibrahim, wearing the 
broad trousers used by the inhabitants of Diarbekr, the 
upper part of his body covered with a thin silk shirt, 
was led in. Two of the headsman’s assistants held his 
hands, and his feet were lightly fettered so that, while 
he could not run, he still could walk freely. He bore 
himself proudly and nobly, and his eyes were not the 
shifting eyes of a criminal. The near approach of 
death had paled his cheek—but he did not tremble 1 
The Sultan gave him a long glance, and his princely 
heart mourned to think that such proud, youthful 
beauty and charm should be paired with covetousness, 
ingratitude and treachery. 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 73 

When Ibrahim had been led into the middle of the 
circle in which his head was to fall, the headsman’s as¬ 
sistants stepped aside. Then the headsman himself 
drew near his victim, his saber in his fist, turned to the 
Grand Seignior, and bowed to earth three times. Slowly 
he walked around the condemned man and, stopping at 
his left hand, once more turned to the Sultan and cried: 
“Padischachem kessilen basch yerineh gelmes! It was 
an old saying which recalled to the highest human judge 
the severity of the sentence he had passed, by reminding 
him that what was done in accordance with his com¬ 
mand could not be recalled. “The head separated from 
the trunk can never again be united to its body!” This 
formula had to be repeated three times so that the Sul¬ 
tan, to the very last moment, held the condemned man’s 
life in his hands and could exercise mercy. Each time 
he called the executioner had to look at the Sultan in 
order to anticipate his decision, and a minute had to 
elapse between each repetition, while the headsman, 
with bent head, slowly walked across the court and 
back. Twice the sentence had sounded forth, and twice 
the Sultan by a short backward movement of his head 
had shown that he had not changed his mind and that 
the condemned man must die. But when the headsman 
was about to make his last round, and his assistants had 
seized Ibrahim’s arms in order to make it possible for 
him to kneel with his fettered feet, one of them gave 
a cry of astonishment. 


74 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

In the deadly silence that lay on the courtyard all 
present heard him. The headsman cast a frowning 
glance at his man, and he, as though to excuse himself, 
pointed to the arm the prisoner had just bared. The 
Sultan, his hands on the sides of his throne, leaned for¬ 
ward with wide opened eyes, and his face grew as white 
as that of Ibrahim, and the guilty Abdullah. “Durr!” 
(stop!) he said to the headsman, and then beckoned 
Ibrahim to step nearer. 

“Who gave you yonder armlet?” he asked, pointing 
to the broad band of gold Ibrahim wore on his upper 
arm. 

“My mother.” 

“What is your mother’s name?” 

“Malchatun.” 

“Where does she live?” 

“In a village three miles west of Mallatia.” 

“Who was your father?” 

“She who clasped this band on my arm told me that 
he would recognize me by means of it, should Allah 
will that we meet, but she forbade me to seek him out.” 

“You are in your father’s presence,” said the Sultan 
gently, and his eyes rested tenderly and kindly on the 
figure of his sorely tried son. But his glance again 
grew dark with passion when, pointing to Abdullah, 
he said in a harsh voice: “And who is he?” 

Ibrahim turned around. Abdullah was kneeling, his 


THE GOLDEN ARMLET 


75 

face touching the dust, and his wailing cry for mercy, 
“Aman, aman!” was faintly audible. “He who kneels 
yonder is Abdullah, the son of my mother’s gardener,” 
said Ibrahim, answering the Sultan’s question. 

“He has betrayed the caliph, tried to deceive a 
father’s heart and offered up the Sultan’s son to the 
headsman’s sword! He shall die!” Then Ibrahim said, 
so softly that his words reached only the padischah’s 
ear: “Allah is merciful and mild,” and he pointed to the 
verse graven in his golden armlet. 

The Sultan looked to the ground, his chest rose as he 
breathed deeply, and then, speaking with great emotion, 
while he stretched his right hand out threateningly in 
Abdullah’s direction, he said: “You have deserved 
death, and my favor is withdrawn from you! Yet for 
the sake of my dear son, whom Allah gave me to-day 
for the second time, I give you your wretched life! 
Leave this place—and never let my glance fall on you 
again!” 

Ibrahim, publicly acknowledged as the Sultan’s son, 
soon won his father’s love and confidence. The terrible 
minutes he had undergone on the place of judgment 
had made him serious and reflective, and he spoke so 
little he was known as “the taciturn.” Yet his ability 
won him a great name at court, and the poor loved him 
because of his charity. When war broke out, he dis¬ 
tinguished himself by his bravery, and when the Sultan 


76 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

was in danger of being captured in a daring cavalry 
attack, Ibrahim, at the head of a band of heroic Jani¬ 
zaries, saved him from the enemy. 

After the battle the Sultan and his son rested in the 
shade of a low-growing old tree. Then, although the 
air was motionless and fruit and leaves still clung 
firmly to the branches, an apple fell to the ground, be¬ 
tween the Sultan and his son. Ibrahim handed it to 
his father, who looked at it thoughtfully. And sud¬ 
denly a picture from the distant past came back to his 
memory. He saw himself as a youth again, by the 
stream near Mallatia, and saw the apple which the 
waters brought him. It was an apple of the same kind 
that he held in his hand. In order to become the right¬ 
ful owner of the apple he had found in the stream, he 
had, against his will, promised to marry a maiden 
whose mother had said she might be old and homely. 
And then his obedience to Allah’s command, his justice 
had been rewarded, for in Malchatun he had found a 
young and beautiful wife. And now an even greater 
reward had been his, for Ibrahim, the son Malchatun 
had given him, had saved his life. “Whoso is just, him 
Allah will reward even beyond his deserts,” murmured 
Selim, thinking of the verse engraved on the golden 
armlet by means of which he had been able to tell that 
Ibrahim was in truth his son. 


THE WATER OF KANE 


I N the old, old days there lived on the island of 
Hawaii a king who was very ill, so ill that his family 
and all his friends thought he would die. His whole 
family gathered in the court of his house and his three 
sons wept bitterly because of the grief they felt. As 
they wept an old man came by and asked them why 
they mourned, and one of the youths answered: “My 
father lies in the house sick unto death.” 

Then the old man looked over the fence of the court¬ 
yard and said calmly: “I know what would restore your 
father’s health. He should drink some of the water of 
Kane, the water of life. It is a pity that it is very hard 
to find and still harder to keep when found.” 

When the old man had gone on the oldest son spoke 
as follows: “I will go and find the water of Kane.” 
“For,” thought he, “then I shall be my father’s favorite, 
and he will give the kingdom into my hand.” So he ran 
to his father and begged permission to go and seek the 
water of Kane. But the sick king answered: “No, that 
is too hard and dangerous a task. It would be better 
were I to die.” Yet the young prince pleaded so long 
and so earnestly that at last his father gave his consent. 
Then the prince took up his water calabash and hur- 
77 


78 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

ried off. For a long time he journeyed, but found no 
trace of the life-giving water, for Kane lies far, far 
beyond the horizons of Hawaii, in a land beneath the 
ocean, where it springs clear and cool from an ever- 
running well, which is not easy to find. One day, while 
the prince was wandering through a forest, a homely 
little dwarf suddenly came up to him and said: “Where 
are you going in such a hurry?” The prince answered 
rudely: “Is that any business of yours? Why should I 
tell you?” and, pushing the dwarf aside, he continued 
on his way. 

This made the dwarf very angry. He was a magician 
as well as a dwarf, so he used his magic arts and the 
path the prince had taken suddenly developed a thou¬ 
sand and one different crooks and turns and grew 
smaller and narrower the further the prince went. The 
trees kept pressing closer and closer together and finally 
the path disappeared altogether and, between the trees 
which hedged him in, spread creeping and climbing 
plants of every kind. The prince fell to the ground 
and soon, in spite of a desperate struggle, the blossom¬ 
ing creepers wound themselves about his body, legs and 
arms, so that, to all appearances he lay dead where he 
had fallen. 

For a long time his people waited for him to return 
to the house of the king, his father; but when he did not 
come back, they knew that something must have hap¬ 
pened to him. So the second son said he would go out 


THE WATER OF KANE 


79 


and look for the water of Kane. He took up his water 
calabash and followed the same road his brother had 
taken, for he felt sure of finding the water of life and 
inheriting the kingdom in his brother’s stead. 

As he was going through the forest he, too, met the 
dwarf—who was really a magician and the king of the 
dwarfs—and the latter cried: “Where are you going 
in such a hurry?” The prince answered him rudely, 
just as his brother had done, pushed him out of the 
way and ran on. But soon the dwarf’s enchantments 
changed the forest, and he was caught and held by the 
creepers as his brother had been. 

At last, after waiting in vain for his brothers to make 
their appearance, the youngest son, in turn, set out to 
free them, and to fetch back the water of Kane to his 
father. He met the dwarf, just as his brothers had done, 
but when the dwarf asked him where he was going, the 
prince told him all about the king’s illness and the 
magic powers of the water of Kane, and begged him 
to help him find the life-giving spring. “My father is 
sick unto death,” said the prince, “and only the water 
of Kane can cure him, and I do not know the path that 
leads to it!” 

Then the dwarf said: “Since you have told me every¬ 
thing in such a friendly way and have asked me to help 
you, and because you did not treat me rudely as your 
brothers did, I will show you the road to Kane and aid 
you. Take this staff—and the road to Kane will open 


8o WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


before you as you go! After a time you will come to the 
palace of Kane, who is a divine king and a magician. 
In his palace the living water rises in a holy well. But 
only with these three magic packets of food which I give 
you can you enter the palace. Take the packets in one 
hand and your staff in the other, and when you reach 
Kane’s palace, knock on the door three times. It will 
open at once. When it opens you will see two dragons, 
ready to devour you. But if you quickly fling one of the 
magic packets of food in the jaws of each, they will do 
you no harm. Then fill your calabash with the water 
of life and hurry away. For at the hour of midnight 
all the doors and windows of the palace close tightly, 
and you would not be able to get out again!” 

The prince thanked the dwarf, took his gifts and went 
on his way with a glad heart. Following the magic 
staff, he came, after a long time, to a strange land and 
in it found the palace of Kane, the divine magician 
king. He knocked at the door, saw the dragons, threw 
the magic packets into their jaws and made them his 
friends. Then he entered the house and was greeted by 
several young chieftains, who gave him a war club and 
food. Thence he was led into another room, and there 
stood a beautiful girl, the daughter of Kane, to whom 
his heart went out as soon as he looked at her. She 
gazed into the prince’s eyes, and told him that, though 
they must part at once, they should meet again and she 
would become his wife. Then she led him to the well 


THE WATER OF KANE 


81 


in which the water of life rose, cool and clear, and told 
him to make haste. So he filled his calabash at the well, 
and ran out of the door of the palace just on the hour of 
midnight. 

Full of joy he now hastened back, passing from one 
land and from one sea to another, and looking every¬ 
where for the good dwarf who had so greatly aided him. 
And suddenly, one day, just as though he knew what 
the prince wanted, the dwarf stood in front of him and 
asked him about his adventures. So the prince told him 
of his long journey and of its success and thanked him 
for all his kindness. But when the dwarf refused to 
take any reward, the prince asked whether he might 
make bold and beg one more favor of him. Said the 
dwarf: “You treated me with friendliness and respect 
when you met me in the forest. Ask what you desire, 
and perhaps I can grant you your wishl” Then the 
prince said: “I do not like to go home without my broth¬ 
ers. Will you not help me find them?” 

“They are lying dead in the forest,” said the dwarf. 
“Even if you did find them they would only try to harm 
you. They are lying among the ferns and creepers and 
there let them lie, for they have evil hearts 1” 

Yet the prince pleaded so movingly that at last the 
dwarf showed him the winding path through the forest, 
which opened up before the prince’s magic staff, until 
he came to the place where his brothers lay. There he 
sprinkled them with a few drops of the water of life, 


82 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


and they at once awoke to life and strength. Their 
young brother told them how he had found the water 
of Kane, of the gifts which had been given him, and 
how he had been promised a beautiful bride. When 
they heard this news, however, the evil older brothers 
forgot their long death sleep, and were jealous and 
enraged to think of their younger brother’s success. 

But they hid their feelings and set out with him to re¬ 
turn to their home. On the way they came to a land in 
which the chieftain was at war with his rebellious sub¬ 
jects. The country had been laid waste and the people 
suffered, and the young prince felt sorry for the chief¬ 
tain and his warriors. So he gave them some of the 
food which had been presented to him in Kane’s palace, 
and when they ate it they at once became strong and 
vigorous again. And when he had loaned the chief¬ 
tain his war club, the rebels were soon scattered and the 
land enjoyed peace once more. 

Finally the prince landed with his brothers on the 
shores of Hawaii again. There he lay down to sleep; 
but his evil brothers, who knew that they were now safe 
from danger, would have killed him, had it not been 
for the magic war club which guarded him while he 
slept. Since they could not slay him, they took his cala¬ 
bash, however, and poured the water of life out of it 
into their own calabashes, filling the prince’s with salt 
sea water. 

The following morning all three went home. When 


THE WATER OF KANE 83 

he reached his father’s house the youngest brother came 
forward with his calabash, and gave it to his father, tell¬ 
ing him to drink of it and become well. The sick king 
drank heartily of the salt water, and at once became 
more ill than he had been before. Then the other two 
brothers came up and accused the youngest of trying 
to poison their father. They gave him the true water 
of Kane to drink from their calabashes, and at once the 
king became well and as strong as in the days of his 
youth. 

But the king was very angry with his youngest son, 
and sent him away with a man who knew the forests 
well, with orders to lose him in the woods so that he 
would perish there. The man, however, was a friend 
of the young prince, so instead of losing him, he 
brought him to a safe hiding-place where he lived in 
solitude and sadness. 

Not long after, the powerful chieftain, whom the 
prince had helped in his difficulties, came to Hawaii 
to bring him many gifts as a reward for the aid he had 
given him in establishing peace and prosperity in his 
kingdom. He told the father what a wonderful son 
he had and asked that he might be allowed to thank 
him. Then the king regretted the wrong he had done 
his son, and sent for the man he had told to lose him in 
the forest. And when he learned that the prince was 
not dead, he dispatched messengers to bring him back 
with them. 


84 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


In the meantime Kane’s daughter, the loveliest prin¬ 
cess in the world, had sent out word everywhere that 
she would seat herself in her house, and that her magi¬ 
cians would draw a line through the air running straight 
to her. Whichever prince was the first to reach her, 
coming along this line and looking neither to the right 
nor to the left, she would take for her husband. And 
a special day was set for the event. 

Now the messenger, whom the king had sent to fetch 
the young prince from the forest, had heard this and 
told the prince, and the latter at once hurried to the 
land of Kane on the wings of love. His brothers had 
not succeeded in finding the daughter of Kane after the 
most painstaking search, but the young prince followed 
the path of his heart, which was the very same line the 
magicians had drawn, and came straight to a door 
which opened of itself. And there the daughter of 
Kane ran out of the house and into his arms, and sent 
her servants forth everywhere to proclaim that she had 
found her husband. 

As for the two evil brothers, they wandered off into 
far lands and never came back, and the prince and 
princess became king and queen of Hawaii and lived 
happily and contentedly to the joy of their subjects and 
their own. 


THE RED HERON 


/^VNCE upon a time there lived a king in Anahuac 
whose tecpan was surrounded by wonderful gar¬ 
dens, filled with the choicest flowers and trees to be 
found in the world, and most beautiful of all was a giant 
cactus tree, which bore figs of purest emerald. When 
the emerald figs had ripened the king had them counted, 
but the next morning one was missing. When the king 
heard this he at once ordered a guard of his soldiers, 
his bravest Eagles and Jaguars, as they were called, to 
be posted around the tree during the day to see that no 
more of the precious fruit was stolen. And that night 
he sent the oldest of his three sons into the garden to 
stand watch over it. But when midnight came his eyes 
grew heavy and closed, and when he awoke in the morn¬ 
ing a second emerald fig was missing. 

So the next night the king sent his second son to stand 
guard beneath the tree. But when midnight came the 
prince fell asleep, and when he woke in the morning an¬ 
other emerald had disappeared. Now it was the third 
son’s turn to stand watch, though the king did not think 
he would accomplish much, seeing what had happened 
to his brothers. So the third young prince lay down 
under the tree, but unlike his brothers, he did not grow 
85 


86 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


sleepy: when midnight came, he was wide awake. And 
as he lay there with his eyes open, he heard a rustling 
in the air and by the light of the moon he saw a beauti¬ 
ful Red Heron. All the feathers of its neck, breast and 
wings were red, every shade of red known. The Red 
Heron had wine-red, blood-red and rose-red feathers, 
feathers scarlet, purple and vermilion, feathers as 
clear-red as mountain berries, as dark-red as rubies and 
golden-red like autumn leaves. Never had the young 
prince seen such a glorious sight. 

The Red Heron settled in the giant cactus tree and 
he had just picked one of its emerald fruits with his 
beak, when the prince shot an arrow at him. The 
heron flew off, but the arrow struck his wing, and one 
of the glorious golden-red feathers fluttered to the 
ground. The youth picked it up, and the following 
morning brought it to the king, his father, and told him 
what had occurred. The king called together his coun¬ 
selors and wise men, and they all declared that the pre¬ 
cious feather was worth more than his entire kingdom. 
“If it is as valuable as that,” said the king, “then a single 
feather is of no use to me, and I must and will have the 
bird itself.” 

So the oldest son set out to hunt for the Red Heron, 
relying on his cunning and feeling sure he would catch 
it. After he had gone a way he saw a coyote by the 
roadside and aimed an arrow at it. But the coyote 
cried: “If you do not shoot me I will give you a bit of 


THE RED HERON 


87 

good advice! You are on your way to hunt the Red 
Heron, and this evening you will reach a village in 
which there are two inns, one opposite the other. The 
first is brightly lit and is full of merrymakers. Do 
not enter that inn, but go to the other, even if it does 
not look so attractive.” 

“How can such a silly beast give me any good ad¬ 
vice,” thought the king’s son. He let fly with his arrow, 
but missed the coyote, which at once turned tail and 
ran off into the forest. Then the prince continued on 
his way, and in the evening reached the village with the 
two inns. From the one came the sound of song and 
laughter; but the other had a silent, shabby look. 
“What a fool I would be,” thought the king’s son, “if 
I were to go to that wretched-looking inn instead of 
this fine, gay one.” So he went to the inn which was 
full of merrymakers, and soon was enjoying himself so 
well that he forgot the Red Heron, his father and every¬ 
thing else. 

As time went by and his oldest son did not return, the 
second young prince started out to hunt the Red Heron 
Like his older brother he, too, met the coyote and lis¬ 
tened to his good advice, but did not profit by it. And 
when he came to the village with the two inns, there 
stood his brother in the window of the one and beckoned 
him in. So in he went and soon had forgotten the Red 
Heron and his father as completely as his brother. 

Again time went by and at last the youngest prince 


88 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


wished to set out to hunt the Red Heron, though his 
father begged him not to do so. “You would only be 
wasting your time,” said he, “for if your brothers did 
not find the Red Heron, it is not likely that you will. 
And if misfortune overtakes you I will have lost all my 
sons.” Finally, however, since his son gave him no 
peace, he agreed to let him go. When he came to the 
forest, there sat the coyote, begged for its life and gave 
its bit of good advice. And the good-natured prince 
said to it: “Do not worry, little coyote, I am much 
obliged for your advice and will do you no harm.” 
When the coyote heard this it answered: “You shall not 
regret it, and now, so that you may travel the more 
quickly, climb up on my tail.” No sooner had the 
prince climbed on the coyote’s tail than the animal ran 
off so swiftly over stick and stone that the wind whis¬ 
tled through the prince’s hair. When they reached the 
village, the prince climbed down and, taking the coy¬ 
ote’s advice, entered the quiet inn without even looking 
at the other one, and passed a restful night. 

The following morning, when he had left the village 
and was following a road which led past large fields of 
maize, the coyote again appeared and said: “Now I 
will tell you what to do next! Keep on walking straight 
ahead, and you will come to a handsome, walled tecpan. 
Outside a whole company of warriors of the jaguar 
clan, with their two-edged obsidian swords, their feath¬ 
ered armor and their high helmets, are standing guard. 



‘The Red Heron had just picked one of the emerald fruits with 
its beak” 





THE RED HERON 


89 

But pay no attention to them, for they all will be fast 
asleep where they stand, snoring loudly. Walk right 
into the palace and go through all its rooms till you 
come to one in which the Red Heron hangs in a cage of 
woven reeds. Beside the plain cage of woven reeds 
you will see another, a splendid cage of gold wire. But 
be careful not to take the Red Heron out of the reed 
cage and put it into the golden one, for if you do it will 
be the worse for you.” 

With these words the coyote once more stretched out 
its tail, the prince climbed up on it and off they flew, 
over stick and stone, while the wind whistled through 
the prince’s hair. When they reached the walled tec- 
pan everything was just as the coyote had said. And 
the prince came to the room in which the Red Heron 
fluttered about in its cage of reeds, while beside it stood 
another of gold wire. And on the floor of the room lay 
the three emerald figs. Yet it seemed silly to the young 
prince to keep the beautiful bird, which shone and glit¬ 
tered like a living jewel, in the cheap, common cage of 
woven reeds. So he opened the door, seized the bird 
and was about to thrust it into the golden cage when it 
gave a piercing cry. 

At once the Jaguars who had been sleeping outside 
the tecpan awoke, rushed into the room and at once led 
off the prince to a cuauhcalli, the wooden prison-cage 
reserved for those who have committed some mortal 
offence. The following morning he was placed on 


90 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

trial and, since he admitted everything, was condemned 
to death. Yet, said the king, he could save his life on 
one condition, that of bringing him the Yellow Hind, 
whose hair was of gold and which could outrun the 
wind. If he brought him the Yellow Hind, said the 
king, not only would his life be spared, but he should 
receive the Red Heron as a reward. 

The prince agreed to undertake the task, and went 
his way, shaking his head and sighing, for he had no 
idea where the Yellow Hind might be found. And 
suddenly, there by the roadside, stood his old friend, 
the coyote: “You see,” said the intelligent beast, “what 
happened because you would not take my advice! Yet 
do not lose courage, for I will tell you where to find the 
Yellow Hind. If you keep on going straight ahead 
you will come to a tecpan in whose stable stands the 
Yellow Hind. A company of warriors of the Eagle 
clan will be standing in front of the stable with their 
two-edged obsidian swords, their feathered armor and 
their high helmets. But pay no attention to them, for 
they will be sleeping where they stand and snoring 
loudly, and you can lead the Yellow Hind out of the 
stable with perfect safety. But one thing you must re¬ 
member. Before you lead out the Yellow Hind throw 
the coarse cotton blanket over her and not the rich 
blanket of quetzal feathers which hangs beside it, or it 
will be the worse for you.” 

Then the coyote stretched its tail, the prince climbed 


THE RED HERON 


9i 


up on it and off they went, over stick and stone, till the 
wind whistled through the prince’s hair. All was 
exactly as the coyote had said it would be, and the 
prince had no trouble in finding the stable in which 
stood the Yellow Hind. But when he was about to 
fling the coarse, cotton blanket over the beautiful crea¬ 
ture, whose hair shone like the purest gold, he thought 
to himself: “It would be a shame to disgrace so hand¬ 
some a beast! I will give it the quetzal feather blanket 
it deserves!” No sooner had he taken up the blanket 
of quetzal feathers, however, than the Yellow Hind 
gave a piercing bleat. The Eagle warriors who were 
sleeping outside the stable awoke, rushed in and once 
more the youth was cast into the cuauhcalli, and the 
next morning was condemned to death. However, the 
king promised to spare his life and give him the Yellow 
Hind in addition, if he brought back to him the beauti¬ 
ful daughter of the King of the Emerald Tecpan . 

The youth agreed to undertake the adventure and set 
out again with a heavy heart, for he had no idea where 
to look for the beautiful princess. But his faithful 
friend the coyote had not deserted him and was once 
more awaiting him by the roadside. “You do not de¬ 
serve to be helped,” said the coyote, for it was vexed, 
“but I will take pity on you and will help you once 
more. Right on ahead lies the country of the King of 
the Emerald Tecpan . You will reach the Emerald 
Tecpan in the evening, and you must hide and wait until 


92 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

midnight, when the beautiful princess goes to her 
temazcalli to take a bath. When she is about to enter 
the temazcalli you must walk up to her and give her a 
kiss. Then you will be able to lead her away with you. 
But take care not to allow her to bid her parents good- 
by, for if you do it will be the worse for you.” 

Then the coyote stretched out its tail, the prince 
climbed up and off they went, over stick and stone, till 
the wind whistled through the prince’s hair. When 
they reached the Emerald Tecpan all was as the coyote 
had said. The prince waited until midnight, when all 
were fast asleep, and just as the beautiful princess was 
about to enter her temazcalli, he stepped forward and 
kissed her. She told him she would gladly go with him, 
but begged him with tears in her eyes to let her say 
farewell to her father and mother before she went. At 
first the prince would not yield to her pleading, but 
when she kneeled at his feet and wept bitterly he gave 
in. But no sooner had the princess stepped up to her 
father’s couch than he and every one else in the tepcan 
awoke, and the youth was captured and thrust into the 
cuauhcalli for the third time. 

The following morning the King of the Emerald 
Tecpan said to him: “Your life is forfeited, and the 
only way for you to escape death is to remove the moun¬ 
tain which lies in front of my tecpan and which inter¬ 
feres with my view. And this you must do within eight 
days’ time. If you do this not only shall your life be 


THE RED HERON 


93 


spared, but you shall marry my daughter as well.” So 
the young prince thought he might as well make the 
attempt and commenced to shovel and dig as hard and 
as fast as he could. But when he saw how little he had 
accomplished in the course of seven days and that the 
mountain was as big and as high as ever, he lost all 
heart and grew much discouraged. But on the evening 
of the seventh day the coyote once more appeared and 
said: “I ought not to trouble my head with you at all. 
However, go to sleep now and I will attend to your 
work for you.” And the next morning, when the youth 
awoke, he saw that the mountain had disappeared. 
Full of joy he hurried to the king and told him that he 
had fulfilled the condition. Then, whether he liked it 
or not, the King of the Emerald Tecpan had to keep 
his word, and give him his daughter’s hand in mar¬ 
riage. 

Then the prince and the princess set out together 
from her father’s country and before long they met the 
kind coyote. “It is true that you have the best of all,” 
said the coyote to the prince, “but the Yellow Hind be¬ 
longs with the Princess of the Emerald Tecpan ” “How 
can I obtain the Yellow Hind?” asked the prince. 
“That is easily done,” replied the coyote. “First you 
must bring the beautiful princess to the king who sent 
you to the Emerald Tecpan. When he sees her he will 
be so full of joy that he will have the Yellow Hind 
brought out of the stable and presented to you. Then 


94 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

you must climb on the creature’s back and bid them all 
farewell. Last of all you must say good-by to the prin¬ 
cess. Then, when you hold her hand, you must quickly 
draw her up on the Hind’s back with you and flee, 
for the Yellow Hind can outrun the wind.” 

The prince did just as the coyote told him and carried 
off the beautiful princess on the back of the Yellow 
Hind. The coyote kept up with them and when they 
were safe from pursuit, said: “Now I will help you 
obtain the Red Heron. When you draw near the tec- 
pan in which the bird is kept, have the princess dis¬ 
mount and I will take care of her. Then ride into the 
court of the tecpan on the Yellow Hind. The king will 
be so delighted that he will bring out the Red Heron to 
you, and as soon as you hold the cage in your hand, ride 
back to us and take up the princess again.” 

When this had been done, and the prince was ready 
to ride back to his father’s kingdom with his treasures, 
the coyote said: “Now you must reward me for the aid 
I have given you.” “What shall I do for you?” asked 
the prince. “When we reach the forest, you must draw 
an arrow on me and shoot to kill. Then you must cut 
off my head and my paws.” “That would be a fine re¬ 
ward for all you have done,” cried the prince, “and a 
fine way of showing my gratitude! No, that is some¬ 
thing I cannot do for you.” “Well, then,” said the 
coyote, “if you will not do as I ask, then I will have to 
leave you. But before I go I will give you a bit of 


THE RED HERON 


95 


good advice. Beware of two things: buy no gallows’ 
flesh and do not sit on the edge of a well.” And with 
that the coyote ran off into the forest. 

The young prince thought to himself: “The coyote is 
a strange beast and full of curious fancies. Who in the 
world would buy the flesh of those who are to be hanged, 
and never in my life have I thought of sitting on the 
edge of a well.” He kept on with the beautiful princess 
and soon his way led through the village of the two 
inns, in which his brothers had remained. There was 
great tumult and excitement in the village, and when 
he reached it and asked what was the matter, he was 
told that two men were about to be hanged. When he 
came closer, the prince saw that the two men were his 
two brothers, who had done all sorts of evil deeds and 
squandered away all they had. He asked whether they 
would not free them. “If you wish to pay all that they 
owe we will set them free,” said the villagers, “but why 
should you waste good money on two such evil crea¬ 
tures?” 

Yet the good brother did not hesitate for a moment. 
He paid down the gold for their release, and when they 
had been freed, all three continued their journey to¬ 
gether. When they reached the road through the forest, 
where the brothers had met the coyote for the first time, 
the sun was burning hot and the forest cool and shady. 
So the older brothers said: “Let us rest a little by the 
well, and eat and drink.” The youngest brother agreed. 


96 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

and while he was talking with them forgot the coyote’s 
warning; and seated himself on the edge of the well 
without any suspicion. Suddenly the two older brothers 
pushed him in so that he went down the shaft back¬ 
ward, took the beautiful princess, the Yellow Hind and 
the Red Heron and went home to their father. “We 
have not only brought you the Red Heron,” said they, 
“but also the Yellow Hind and the beautiful daughter 
of the King of the Emerald Tecpan ” Then there was 
great joy and happiness—but the Yellow Hind would 
not eat, and the Red Heron would not sing and the 
beautiful daughter of the King of the Emerald Tecpan 
would not speak, but sat all day long weeping bitterly. 

Yet the youngest brother had not perished. Fortu¬ 
nately the well was dry, and when he tumbled in he 
fell on the soft moss which covered the bottom. The 
only trouble was that he could not climb out again. 
Yet in his greatest need the faithful coyote did not for¬ 
get him, but came rushing up, looked over the edge of 
the well and scolded him for not following his advice. 
“I have not the heart to leave you there,” it said at last, 
“and I will help you up so that you may see the light of 
the sun once more.” Then it added: “Take hold of my 
tail, which I will hang over the edge of the well, and 
I will pull you up!” And soon the prince was out of 
the well. 

“Your troubles are not over yet,” said the Coyote, 
“for your evil brothers are not certain that they have 


THE RED HERON 


97 


killed you, and they have surrounded the forest with 
warriors who will slay you if you show yourself.” 
Now a poor beggar was sitting by the roadside, and the 
prince changed clothes with him and thus was able to 
pass the watching warriors and reach his father’s tec- 
pan. No one knew him in the shabby rags he was wear¬ 
ing, but suddenly the Yellow Hind commenced to eat, 
the Red Heron began to sing and the beautiful daugh¬ 
ter of the King of the Emerald Tecpan stopped crying. 
The king was much astonished and asked the lovely 
princess why she no longer wept, but all she could say 
was: “I do not know how it is, but I have been sadder 
than sad until now, and now I feel happier than happy. 
I feel as though my true love and husband had arrived.” 
Then she told the king all that had happened, though 
the two older brothers had threatened to kill her if she 
did. At once the king had all those who were in his 
tecpan brought before him, and among them was the 
youth in the beggar’s rags. The princess knew him even 
in his disguise, however, and flung her arms around his 
neck and kissed him. Then his evil brothers were ban¬ 
ished from the kingdom, while the youngest brother 
married the beautiful daughter of the King of the 
Emerald Tecpan and they lived happily ever after. 

But what became of the good coyote who had brought 
the prince all his happiness? A long time afterward 
the king’s son was again walking in the forest, when 
the coyote appeared and said: “Now you have all that 


9 8 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


heart could wish, but I am as unfortunate as ever. Yet 
it is in your power to release me from my sufferings.” 
And then he once more begged the prince in such a 
piteous way to kill him and cut off his head and paws 
that he said he would. And no sooner had the prince 
done so than the coyote turned into a human being, and 
who do you suppose he was? None other than the 
brother of the princess of the Emerald Tecpan, who 
had been enchanted by an evil magician, and was now 
released from his enchantment. So there was not an¬ 
other thing needed to ensure the happiness of all con¬ 
cerned. 


URASHIMATARO 


O NCE upon a time a pious old couple dwelt close 
by the seashore, living on the fish they caught. 
An only son was their one great joy in life, and since he 
both looked and did well, they never complained be¬ 
cause they had to work hard, but saw the days go by 
content and happy. The son’s name was Urashimataro, 
which means the son of the ocean isle. 

He grew up to be a brave, handsome youth, and, since 
he helped his father with the fishing, he could be seen 
putting out to sea every day, rain or shine. No one in 
the village, which was famous for its fish, dared go so 
far out to sea as he did, and often the neighbors said to 
his parents: “If your son continues to be overbold, you 
are bound to meet with misfortune. The waves will 
bury him and the day will come when he will not return 
to you!” But Urashimataro paid no attention to these 
speeches, and since he was strong and fearless in the 
handling of his boat, they did not worry his parents. 

One morning—it was a clear, bright day—when he 
drew his well-filled nets from the water and emptied 
them into his boat, he found the smallest and prettiest 
little turtle imaginable among the fishes. Much pleased 
with his catch, he dropped it into a wooden vessel, and 
9 ? 


ioo WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


at that the little turtle suddenly began to beg him in 
the most pitiful manner not to kill it: “Spare me,” it 
cried, “of what use am I to you? I am so very young 
and small, and would so much like to live. If you are 
merciful and give me my freedom, I promise to show 
myself grateful!” 

It did not need to say more, for Urashimataro 
was far too good-natured to deny a request. He at once 
took up the turtle and put it back in the water again. 

Years passed, and Urashimataro, as before, drove his 
boat out along the paths of the sea every morning. 
Then one day, just as he was guiding it past a great 
rock, he was surprised by a tremendous gust of wind, 
which piled the waves mountain-high and smashed his 
little craft. Urashimataro was flung out into the raging 
billows. He was a good swimmer, however, so he did 
not despair, but breasted the waves with his strong 
arms, making for the shore. Suddenly he saw a giant 
turtle come swimming up to him and, in spite of the 
howling of the wind, heard it speak as follows: “I am 
the turtle whose life you saved! Now I wish to prove 
my gratitude and make a return for what I owe you. 
The shore is far away and without my help you never 
could reach it. Climb on my back, therefore, and I 
will carry you wherever you wish!” Urashimataro did 
not need to be told twice, and gratefully accepted his 
friend’s help. Yet no sooner was he seated on the tur¬ 
tle’s back than it proposed to him not to return to the 


URASHIMATARO 


IOI 


shore that day, but to let it carry him where it wished. 
“If you do, you shall see wonderful things,” said the 
turtle, “and will never regret it!” 

Urashimataro was much surprised, but readily agreed 
to the proposal, and the next moment the turtle dove 
beneath the waves, straight down into the depths of the 
sea. How quickly they went down through the blue 
waters! The brave youth hardly knew what was hap¬ 
pening to him, and thus they swam for three whole days 
until, finally, the turtle stopped before a great palace 
at the bottom of the sea. This palace was built of crys¬ 
tal and precious stones, and was all shining with gold 
and silver, radiant rosy coral and shimmering pearls. 
The turtle led Urashimataro into the palace, which was 
just as splendid within as without, for there were golden 
fruits, leaves strewn with pearls and radiant jewels, and 
the walls were covered with precious, glistening fish- 
scales which shone like thousands of lights. 

“Where have you brought me?” Urashimataro asked 
his guide. 

“To the palace of Riugu, in the house of the sea-god, 
to whom we all are subject,” answered the turtle. “I 
am the first attendant of his daughter, the incomparably 
beautiful Princess Otohime, whom you shall soon see!” 

And while Urashimataro still gazed about him with 
eyes of wonder, and waited for whatever was to happen, 
the turtle—which had already told his mistress much 
about the beautiful youth, and had carried him to the 


102 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


palace at her request—went to inform her that Urashi- 
mataro had arrived. And when the Princess found him 
every bit as handsome as the turtle had said, she re¬ 
ceived him with joy and festivity, and begged him to 
remain with her for all time. His reward should be 
the gift of eternal youth and beauty. 

“You shall never grow old,” she coaxed, and since 
she was as beautiful as the sun-queen herself, and 
pleaded with him in so sweet and charming a manner, 
Urashimataro at last consented, and agreed to marry 
her and stay with her in her palace beneath the sea. 

There he led the happiest of lives with the beautiful 
princess, and time went by in utter joy and delight. Yet 
suddenly, in the midst of all this happiness, he was 
seized with a great and uncontrollable longing for his 
dear parents. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, 
he could not conceal this feeling, and one morning he 
was so sad that it was quite impossible for the Princess 
to cheer him. At last she asked him why he grieved, 
and Urashimataro honestly confessed that he longed for 
his parents and would die unless he saw them again. 
When she heard this the Princess was much frightened. 
In vain she told him his wish would expose him to the 
greatest danger: “I shall lose you forever!” she wailed, 
amid her tears. Yet Urashimataro remained firm, and 
only replied: “I must see my home and my parents 
again. Yet I will gladly return if you command me 
to ” 


URASHIMATARO 


103 


Sorrowfully the Princess bowed her beautiful head, 
and sighed deeply: “There is one way by means of 
which you may return to me in safety,” she said, “but I 
fear that you will not be able to carry out the condition 
attached to it.” 

“I will do all that you ask,” replied Urashimataro, 
and looked at her with his honest eyes. But the Prin¬ 
cess did not grow more cheerful—something told her 
that she would lose him. Yet she rose, went off and 
came back with a little box of mother-of-pearl, tinted 
like the rainbow, with clasps of coral and jade. This 
she gave to Urashimataro, begging him earnestly to take 
good care of it and, above all else, never to open it. “If 
you can obey this condition,” she said, when she bade 
him farewell, “you need only go down to the shore and 
call your friend the turtle, and it will bring you back to 
me the way you already have traveled!” Deeply 
moved, Urashimataro thanked her, and again promised 
to do exactly as she said. He put the little box care¬ 
fully away in his robe, seated himself on the back of 
the turtle, which was waiting for him, and was carried 
off while the Princess looked after him with tears in 
her eyes. 

Again they swam for three days and three nights be¬ 
fore they landed safely on Urashimataro’s native strand. 
There the turtle bade him farewell and disappeared in 
the foaming waters. Urashimataro, however, hastened 
to his village with quickened steps and a happy heart. 


io 4 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

He saw the smoke rising from the chimneys, saw the 
well-known straw roofs showing above the green bushes; 
he heard the merry shouts and laughter of children, the 
sound of the koto, the Japanese lute, coming from a hut 
by the wayside, and tears of joy at his return to the 
home he had yearned for so long filled his eyes. 

Yet suddenly his heart contracted as he wandered 
along the village street. All was changed, not a stone, 
not a human being did he recognize. Alarmed, he hur¬ 
ried to his parents’ house. Sure enough, there it stood, 
but its appearance had changed. Horrified, he asked 
the people living in it what had become of his parents, 
but they did not even know their name. In wild de¬ 
spair Urashimataro now hastened to the burial-ground, 
the only spot in the village where he could look for 
help and advice in his hour of need. There all the kind 
and good gods dwelt, they would reveal to him what 
all these mysterious moments of torment and disap¬ 
pointment meant! Nor was he deceived—after a short 
search he found his parents’ grave, and chiseled in the 
headstone was a year not far removed from that in 
which he had departed for the palace of the sea prin¬ 
cess. 

Urashimataro said his prayer, and then looked 
around. About him were countless graves of more 
recent date. And, at last, he found that over three 
hundred years must have passed since he had left his 
home! 


URASHIMATARO 


105 


Filled with horror, he ran back to the village street. 
And when the people told him that no dream was tor¬ 
menting him, but that all was true, he took the little 
box the Princess Otohime had given him from his 
pocket—perhaps he was caught up in the web of some 
evil magic, thought he, and it might save him. Almost 
mechanically he opened the clasp of coral and jade and 
saw a purple mist rise from the box. Astonished, he 
hid the empty box in his hand and saw his hand— 
which but a few minutes before had been the strong 
hand of a youth—shrivel up and grow wrinkled and 
bony like that of an old, old man. He went over to the 
clear lake whose waters flowed down from the moun¬ 
tain and looked at his face in the surface of the wave 
as smooth as a mirror—and a face like that of a mummy 
gazed back at him. Despairing and weary unto death 
he dragged himself through the village. 

No one recognized in the old, old man the hand¬ 
some, blooming youth who had hurried through the 
street a short hour before. Thus he hobbled wearily 
along until he came to the seashore. There he sat down 
and called to the turtle—but he called in vain, and it 
was not long before death came and gently released 
him from earthly suffering. Yet before this happened, 
he told the kind folk who saw him sitting by the shore 
in his loneliness and came to comfort him, his experi¬ 
ences, and they told the story to others until it spread 
throughout the land. And all praised the brave, good 


io6 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


son who had left the wonders and magnificence of the 
beautiful sea-princess’s magic palace for love of his 
parents. To this very day, when a son leaves his home 
to wander afar, his parents bid him not to forget Ura- 
shimataro’s example, and at the moment of his great¬ 
est success and happiness never to forget father and 
mother and the home he left. 


THE GIRL WHO KNEW MORE THAN THE 
EMPEROR 


O NCE upon a time there was a poor man who 
lived in a cabin with his only daughter. Now 
she was a very clever girl. She went about every¬ 
where in search of alms, and she also taught her father 
to speak wisely and well and thus obtain what he 
wanted. So well was he able to put his best foot fore¬ 
most in any society, that one day the poor man came 
to the emperor and begged him for a gift. 

The emperor, surprised at the choice language the 
beggar used, asked him who had taught him to speak 
in such a way. 

“My daughter,” said the poor man. 

“Is your daughter so well educated?” asked the 
emperor, and the poor man replied: 

“Heaven itself, as well as our extreme poverty, have 
been our teachers.” 

Then the emperor gave the poor man thirty eggs and 
said to him: 

“Take these eggs to your daughter and tell her to 
hatch chickens from them. And if she hatches no 
chickens from them it will be the worse for her!” 
The poor man, tears in his eyes, went back to his 
107 


io8 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


cabin and told his daughter what the emperor had 
said. And his daughter at once saw that the eggs were 
hard-boiled. But she told her father not to worry 
for she would see to everything. Her father, follow¬ 
ing his daughter’s advice, went to sleep while she, 
taking up a kettle, filled it with water and with beans 
and put it on the fire. The next morning, when the 
beans had been boiled, she called her father, and told 
him to take a plough and oxen and go plough near 
the road where the emperor would pass. 

“And when you see the emperor,” said she, “take 
the beans and begin to sow them, saying: ‘Giddap, 
my oxen! May Heaven protect me and make my boiled 
beans sprout!’ And should the emperor ask you how 
boiled beans could sprout, you can tell him: ‘It is 
just as easy as hatching a chicken from a hard-boiled 
egg!’ ” 

The poor man did as his daughter told him to and 
when he saw the emperor he began to call out: “Giddap, 
my oxen! May Heaven protect me and make my boiled 
beans sprout!” 

When the emperor heard these words he stopped in 
the road and said: 

“Why, you poor madman, how could boiled beans 
ever sprout?” 

To which the poor man replied: 

“Gracious emperor, it is just as easy as hatching a 
chicken from a hard-boiled egg!” 


THE GIRL AND THE EMPEROR 109 

Then the emperor realized that the daughter had 
taught her father what to say. He ordered his servants 
to seize the poor man and bring him before him, and 
then gave him a small bundle of hemp and said: 

“Take that and with it make me sails, cordage and 
everything else a ship at sea needs, or else I will cut 
off your head!” 

The poor man returned home to his daughter in tears, 
and when he had told her what had happened she 
sent him off to sleep and promised him she would 
attend to everything. The following morning she took 
a splinter of wood, woke her father and said to 
him: 

“Take this splinter to the emperor and tell him that 
as soon as he has made me a spindle, a shuttle and a 
loom of it I will make what he wants.” 

Again the poor man followed his daughter’s advice, 
and went and told the emperor what he had been told 
to say. The emperor was astonished and decided to 
make another try, so taking a drinking-glass he gave 
it to the poor man, saying: 

“Take this glass, bring it to your daughter and tell 
her to bail out the ocean with it so that I can till its 
bottom like a field!” 

Tears in his eyes, the poor man returned home again 
and repeated his conversation with the emperor to his 
daughter, word for word. But his daughter told him 
to wait until the morrow, for she would attend to all. 


Iio WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


The next morning she called her father, gave him a 
pound of cotton waste and said to him: 

“Carry that to the emperor and tell him to stop up 
all the springs and all the river-mouths of the earth, 
and after that I will bail out the ocean.” 

Back went the poor man to tell the emperor what 
she had told him to say. 

The emperor now saw that the girl was wiser than 
he was. He ordered her to appear before him and 
when she, together with her father, had saluted him, 
the emperor said: 

“My child, do you know what can be heard the 
greatest distance off?” 

“Yes,” said the poor man’s daughter, “thunder and 
falsehood can be heard the greatest distance off.” 

Then the emperor took his beard in his hand and, 
turning to his counsellors asked: 

“Can any of you guess how much my beard is worth?” 

One after another the counsellors guessed, some 
guessed more and some guessed less, but the girl de¬ 
clared that not one of them had guessed right and 
said: 

“The emperor’s beard is worth exactly three rain¬ 
falls in the dog-days!” 

Then the emperor was delighted and cried: 

“She has guessed it!” 

So he asked her to marry him, saying he would not 


THE GIRL AND THE EMPEROR in 

be satisfied until she gave her consent. The girl bowed 
and said: 

“Gracious Emperor, your will be done! Only you 
must write on a piece of paper, with your own hand, 
that if at any time you come to dislike me and wish 
to send me away from you and out of this castle, I 
shall have the right to carry off with me whatever I 
love best.” 

The emperor consented and gave her the paper, all 
splashed with red wax and sealed with the great seal 
of the empire. 

Then some time later it did happen that the emperor 
became dissatisfied with his wife and said to her: 

“I no longer wish you for a wife! Leave my palace 
and go wherever you like!” 

Said the empress: “Illustrious Emperor, you shall 
be obeyed! Let me spend one more night here and 
in the morning I will leave.” 

The emperor granted this request and then the 
empress, before supper, put certain fragrant herbs in 
the wine, and, bringing the emperor his goblet, said: 

“Drink, your Majesty, and rejoice! To-morrow we 
shall leave each other and, believe me, for it is true, 
I shall be even happier than the day I married you!” 

No sooner had the emperor taken a drink from the 
goblet than he fell asleep. Then the empress at once 
had him put in a carriage which stood ready and 


112 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


took him to a grotto cut in the rock. When the emperor 
awoke in this grotto and saw where he was he cried: 

“Who brought me here?” 

To which the empress answered: 

“I brought you here!” 

Said the emperor: 

“Why did you do that? Did I not tell you you 
no longer were my wife?” 

But the empress held out a paper to him and said: 

“What you say is quite true. Yet here is what you 
promised me in your own hand. When I left you I 
was to have the right to take away with me whatever 
I liked best in the whole palace!” 

When the emperor heard these words, he hastened 
to embrace his empress, and they returned to the palace 
together and there lived happily ever after. 


THREE NEGRO FAIRY TALES FROM 
AFRICA 


I 

Brave Little Kombe 

O NCE upon a time a Fellata boy by the name of 
Kombe Alhassu left his home to go a-wander- 
ing. He wanted to see the world and learn what it 
was like. After he had gone a ways he met a giantess. 
She gave him good day and asked: “What are you 
doing?” Said little Kombe: “I am wandering along 
seeing the world. Some day I will be king!” When 
she heard this the giantess laughed and answered: 
“Do not stay here all day, for this is a very dangerous 
place.” Said little Kombe: “In that case this is the 
very place in which I’ll stay, for it is to see things 
that I travel around.” 

Now the giantess had three giant sons. Each son 
killed three full-grown elephants every day and brought 
them home for dinner. So when it was noon the three 
sons came home. Each carried his three dead ele¬ 
phants, one across each shoulder and one on his head. 
Said the giantess to them: “Something new dropped in 
on us to-day. But you must be careful or you will 


114 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

crush it by mistake!” Then one of the giants stooped, 
raised up little Kombe Alhassu, put him on a saucer 
and took a good look at him and his weapons. Then 
he very carefully bent down and placed him on the 
ground again. At this Kombe Alhassu was frightened 
and said to the giantess: “I think I would rather go 
now, after all.” But the woman answered: “Now it 
has grown too late, you had better stay and eat supper 
with us.” 

So the three young giants dragged up an enormous 
pot, cut up the elephants and then threw them into it. 
Then they lit the fire and commenced to cook the meat. 
When it was cooked, they seized immense spoons, with 
handles like beams, and began to eat with a will. Soon 
one of them said: “This little human must have some¬ 
thing to eat, too!” So they perched Kombe Alhassu 
on the rim of the enormous pot. But little Kombe 
accidently fell into the elephant stew, and as one of the 
giants thrust in his hand to draw out a morsel of meat, 
little Kombe got onto his finger, and the finger shoved 
him into the giant’s mouth. No one saw it, though 
Kombe cried out at the top of his voice. Yet when 
the giants had finished eating, they looked around for 
the little human, and their mother asked: “Where 
is he? He was sitting on the edge of the pot only a 
few minutes ago!” They looked in every corner, but 
could not find him. At that moment one of the giants 
said: “Something is caught in my teeth. It must be 


NEGRO FAIRY TALES FROM AFRICA ii S 

an elephant-sinew!” He pulled it out, and then they 
all saw it was little Kombe, who had gotten into the 
giant’s mouth by mistake. 

So the giantess said to Kombe: “You see! Didn’t 
I tell you it was dangerous here for a little fellow like 
yourself? But now come, lie down on my mat and 
sleep. Then nothing more can happen to you, and 
you can continue on your way to-morrow.” 

And the good-natured giantess laid down her own 
mat for little Kombe to sleep on. When it grew dark, 
however, Kombe thought he would flee. He groped 
about in the darkness and at last came to a great cavern, 
in which he hid. 

Now this cave was neither more nor less than the 
giantess’s huge ear. Toward morning the giantess’s 
nose tickled her, and she sneezed so terrifically, that a 
great current of air burst from her mouth, nose and 
ears. The shock flung little Kombe out of his hiding- 
place, hurled him through the window and flung him 
a good way into the forest. 

In the morning the giantess said to her sons: “I 
wonder what has become of our little human?” So 
they all looked for him, but could not find him, and 
the giantess said, sadly: “I hope I have not squashed 
him!” But Kombe Alhassu, who was safe and sound, 
wandered happily along his way, until he came to a 
great tree. At the foot of the tree was a cave and into 
this cave little Kombe crept to sleep. 


ii6 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


Up in the tree sat a vulture. After a time an elephant 
came up to the vulture and said: “How do you do, 
oldster! To-day is the change of the year so I wish you 
good luck! You are older and know more than any 
living creature, so I beg of you, tell me a true tale!” 

Then the old, old vulture said: “You are right. This 
is the day of the change of the year, so I wish you 
good luck also! Nor do I mind telling you one thing 
or another, for there is much that may be told. For 
instance, if you take the leaves of this tree, dry them, 
powder them and use them for medicine, they will 
cure many sicknesses. But that is a trifle, and since 
this is a great day, I shall tell you something quite 
special. In the land of Massina, near Dia, there is a 
village called Maitaka. In Maitaka there is a hollow 
in the ground, and if someone were to dig in the earth 
there they would find a great pot. This pot is filled 
from top to bottom with pure gold. And when the 
pot is lifted out of the ground, then a river will at 
once rise from the place and flow through the land!” 

That was the story the ancient vulture told the ele¬ 
phant, and little Kombe, who had been listening, heard 
every word of it. So he got up and went his way and 
after wandering a long time reached Maitaka one 
day in the morning. There he raised the pot of gold 
—and the river streamed forth. Little Kombe was 
the first man of the Fulbe tribe to come to the land of 
Massina, which the Fulbe or Fellata now possess, and 



‘The Pot was filled from top to bottom with pure gold 1 















NEGRO FAIRY TALES FROM AFRICA 117 

the river was named after him. One of his descendants 
was the pious Samba Omar, whose name is spoken 
with reverence whenever fish from the Kombe Alhassu 
river are eaten. 

II 

The Land Turtle and the Hippopotamus 

There once was a land turtle that lived on a river- 
bank and fed on the small onions that grew there. 
One day a hippopotamus waddled ashore and when 
the land turtle saw it, it was frightened most to death. 
And the next day, when an elephant came down to the 
river to drink, the turtle grew speechless with terror. 
When the turtle had grown calmer it said to itself: 
“I would never have thought that a larger animal than 
the hippopotamus existed, but now I believe the hip¬ 
popotamus is not the strongest.” 

Now the land turtle was a sly creature. Knowing 
that the hippopotamus lived in the water and the ele¬ 
phant on land, it went to the hippopotamus and said: 
“Dear friend, the elephant is telling everybody that 
he is stronger than you are. If you will give me a 
gift, I will tell you all the elephant has said about 
you.” So the hippopotamus asked: “What do you 
want me to give you?” Said the land turtle: “A 
bundle of the juciest and tenderest water lily roots.” 


ii8 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


But the hippopotamus would do nothing of the sort 
It laughed the turtle to scorn and said: “Stupid! 
I do not believe there is another animal here in the 
forest as strong as I am! And what beast can live 
both in the water and on the land as I do?” 

But the artful land turtle replied: “How silly you 
are! Why, I could beat you myself!” Then the 
enormous hippopotamus gave the little land turtle a 
scornful glance and said: “O you miserable creature, 
you are much weaker than I am, so how could you 
beat me?” But the turtle answered: “If you do not 
believe me, let us take a long rope and each of us pull 
at one end. If you can drag me down into the water 
then you will have beaten me. The contest will begin 
at twelve o’clock sharp!” 

Then the land turtle at once hurried off and went 
to the elephant and said: “You with the trunk, the 
hippopotamus says he is stronger than you are!” Said 
the elephant: “How could he be stronger than I am?” 
The turtle answered. “Yes, the hippopotamus gave 
me a rope. At twelve o’clock sharp you must have a 
tug-of-war to see who is the stronger!” But the ele¬ 
phant, who was a wise beast, did not trust the turtle and 
said that his tale must be false. Then the sly turtle 
answered: “Very well, then I will have a tug-of-war 
with you!” That suited the elephant, for it felt sure 
of beating the turtle, and in that case it meant to step 
on it. So the elephant agreed, and the turtle said: 


NEGRO FAIRY TALES FROM AFRICA 119 

“When you see the rope taut at twelve o’clock you will 
know I am pulling at the other end!” 

When the elephant saw the rope grow taut at twelve 
o’clock, it began to pull with all its might, and the 
hippopotamus in the river did the same. But the little 
land turtle had hidden in the brush, and had nothing 
to do but watch the two great beasts at their tug-of- 
war. The elephant felt ashamed and panted: “That 
turtle is pulling me!” And the hippopotamus grew 
angry and roared: “Must I be dragged about by a land 
turtle?” At last, when both animals were so exhausted 
that they could pull no more, the land turtle went to 
the elephant and said: “Well, did you notice what I 
can do?” The elephant snorted and said: “You surely 
are strong. How did you manage to prevent my beat¬ 
ing you?” “Easy enough,” answered the land turtle, 
“I had dug myself so firmly into the earth that nothing 
could dislodge me!” So the elephant said: “That 
seems to be so,” and gave the turtle a pile of luscious 
fruit it had culled from the trees with its trunk. 

Then the land turtle went to the hippopotamus, and 
it had to admit its defeat: “You are very strong,” it 
said, “for all you are so small I could not drag you 
into the water. But how did you manage?” So the 
turtle told the hippopotamus what it had already told 
the elephant, and the hippopotamus gave it the tender 
water lily roots and praised it, saying: “Indeed you 
are very strong, little land turtle, the strongest among 


120 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


all the smaller forest beasts! None of them could 
have stood up against me as you have. So now I shall 
go to the lion and have him sign a testimonial that you 
are the strongest of all animals.” 

But when the hippopotamus came to the lion and 
told the whole story, the lion said he would wait with 
the testimonial until he personally had convinced him¬ 
self as to the land turtle’s strength. And to this very 
day the land turtle has not received the testimonial. 


Ill 

Why One Cannot See the Sun's Whole Face 

ONCE upon a time a certain king falsely accused his 
son of conspiring against him to take his life, and the 
son, whose name was Safadu Kwaku, said that Heaven 
should judge whether he were innocent or guilty. To 
this the king agreed and sent men to Ge to buy him 
many swords and knives. When they returned with 
them he had them sharpened at the grindstone for 
seventeen days. 

Then he had the sharpened swords and knives thrust 
point upward into the ground beneath a tall cotton 
tree and invited every one to come and witness the 
judgment of heaven. The king and his son were car¬ 
ried to the place where the test was to take place, and 
when they arrived, the king ordered his son, Safadu 


NEGRO FAIRY TALES FROM AFRICA 121 


Kwaku, to climb the tree and fling himself down upon 
the sharp swords and knives. His mother wept, but 
Safadu Kwaku had no fear, for he knew that he was 
innocent. 

So he climbed the tree singing the song beginning 
Dedende manjimato, samafa hinihini, a song so old 
that even in his day none knew the meaning of its 
words, and when he had finished, he cast himself down 
from the tree and suffered no harm. But the king said 
he had not seen it, because he was in the bath. So 
Safadu Kwaku climbed the tree for the second time, 
sang his song and plunged down on the swords. Then 
the king said he had just finished bathing, so Safadu 
Kwaku had better climb the tree a third time. Again 
he climbed the tree and plunged down. But the king 
said he had been anointing himself with fat and 
had not seen him. Again he ordered him to climb the 
tree and again he did not see him because he had just 
put on his sandals. When Safadu Kwaku climbed the 
tree for the fifth time and plunged down, the king 
had not seen him because he was taking a pinch of 
snuff. And when he climbed the tree for the sixth 
time the king said: “Now I am just getting around to 
seeing him,” and ordered him to climb it the seventh 
time. 

Then all murmured and took Safadu Kwaku’s part, 
but he climbed the tree for the seventh time. Then, 
when he was about to plunge down, heaven, to prove 


122 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


his innocence and reward his faith and constancy, 
raised him to the skies and placed him in the dawn- 
glow. And now, when the sun rises and one wishes to 
look him in the face, he hides his face and says: “I 
have been seven times wronged!” And that is the 
reason why one cannot see the sun’s whole face. 


THE KING WHO KEPT HIS WORD 


I N ancient times good King Haristschandra reigned 
over the great kingdom of Kosala. His subjects 
blessed him because he was just, and the gods rejoiced 
in his blameless life. Kindness and good breeding were 
the rule in Kosala, and happiness was paired with 
piety, for “like king, like people” is a true word. 

Now once upon a time King Haristschandra was 
hunting with his court in a gloomy forest, when he 
heard sounds of a struggle in the jungle and a female 
voice crying pitifully for help. At once King Harists¬ 
chandra leaped from his chariot and cut a way with 
his sword through the brush. “Courage!” he called 
out. “I am coming to aid you! Have no fear! I will 
slay the wretch who is annoying you with my own 
hand!” But when he had broken through the brush 
he was much surprised to find himself in the presence 
of the holy hermit, Kauschika, who stood with his 
hands raised to heaven. And through the tree-tops 
the king saw a flock of demons flying away, uttering 
loud cries for help and followed by the holy man’s 
burning glances. 

When his eyes fell on King Haristschandra the holy 
man was angry. “What, Madman!” he said to the 
123 


124 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

king, “You dare to threaten me with death and in¬ 
terrupt me at my sacred work! Shall I lay a curse 
upon you?” The king kneeled at the powerful her¬ 
mit’s feet. “Forgive me,” he stammered, “I thought 
only of my duty. To protect the helpless and give 
royally is my duty as a king.” “Then protect the good 
and give to the pious!” answered the hermit. “You 
have tried to protect evil demons and have disturbed 
my holy peace! I demand a gift to atone for your 
fault!” 

“A gift you shall have, prince of hermits,” cried 
King Haristschandra, joyfully, “and take me and my 
kingdom, my wife, my child and all else that I have 
besides!” 

“You have given your word, O king!” answered the 
holy man. “Your broad kingdom is mine and all else 
that you possess. You may keep your wife and child, 
but you must give me the gift of atonement you prom¬ 
ised!” 

“But, holy hermit, all that I have is yours! I have 
nothing left wherewith to give you a gift of atone¬ 
ment,” Haristschandra said quietly. 

“You must keep your word! You promised to give 
me a gift of atonement and all that you had. Do you 
wish to bandy words and break your promise?” 

“Nay, holy man, such is not my intention,” said the 
poor king. “Only grant me until the moon has waxed 
and waned another time, and I will pay you.” 


THE KING WHO KEPT HIS WORD 125 

“Then go your way. I will wait until the time you 
have set has passed,” answered the hermit, severely. 

King Haristschandra bowed before him, then turned 
and made his way back to his chariot. There he called 
wife and child to him, and all three robed themselves 
in the cotton gowns of the beggar guild, and gave up 
their royal splendor without a murmur. Then they 
wearily marched afoot to the capital of the kingdom, 
begging their way as they went. When they reached 
Ajodhia the people of the city recognized them and 
gathered around the beggar. “Hail, King Harists¬ 
chandra!” they cried. “Where are you wandering 
with a beggar’s pack? Why have you left your throne? 
And see, there is poor Queen Sajvi, with her hand¬ 
some baby boy! Alas, their feet are bloody; hers, who 
sat in a golden chariot, and his, who rode the proudest 
of mountain elephants and could cover himself with 
jewels from head to foot. Behold, they are beggars! 
Help them! What has happened, O King?” 

“I am bound by a promise, good people,” said the 
king. “Give me alms! I must gather alms for a 
pious purpose! Give to us who are poor! Give!” 

Many of the good people of Ajodhia already had 
put their hands in their purses when suddenly the 
hermit, Kauschika, appeared in the midst of the throng 
and called out in a commanding voice: “Stop! Return 
to your homes, ye people of Ajodhia!” And the 
Kosalians obeyed the pious hermit’s command, while 


126 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


the latter turned to King Haristschandra and said: 
“Shame! Is it thus you keep your word? Did you 
not give me your kingdom and all your possessions? 
And now you are begging them back again, penny by 
penny. No doubt you are trying to rouse the people 
against me, their new ruler?” 

“By no means, prince of hermits,” answered King 
Haristschandra, sadly. “I was begging for gifts so 
that I might pay my debt to you.” “Then beg out¬ 
side my land, and do not forget the day of the full 
moon,” replied the holy man in a harsh tone of voice 
and turned away. But Haristschandra took his wife 
and child by the hand, and wandered out of the land 
over which he and his fathers before him had ruled. 

When the day of the full moon came, the beggar 
king had but seven copper coins in the pocket of his 
worn, cotton robe. The friendly inhabitants of the 
districts through which he wandered had freely shared 
their food with the unfortunate beggars, but money 
was too scarce to waste on strangers. When the morn¬ 
ing of the day of payment dawned, the hermit Kaus- 
chika stood beside the couch of leaves on which his 
debtor lay. “Up, Haristschandra!” he cried. “Pay, 
pay! He who has debts should be roused from slum¬ 
ber by anxious care!” “O master,” said Haristschan¬ 
dra, as he leaped up, “have patience until the sinking 
of the sun! I still have nothing to offer you!” “Then 
make haste, for your debt is overdue,” cried Kauschika, 


THE KING WHO KEPT HIS WORD 127 

angrily. “This is your last chance. If you do not 
improve it, my curse shall be laid upon you and yours!” 

Again Haristschandra went a-begging with his wife 
and child. “Alas, unfortunate that I am,” he cried, 
“I cannot keep my word, and the holy man’s curse will 
cast me into the nether world! Alas, I must bow my 
royal head beneath the yoke of slavery! Yet the servi¬ 
tude of my body shall free our souls.” 

“Nay, dear lord,” answered Sajvi, “you shall not 
serve, for you are my master. Sell me. I have given 
you a son, and thus have done my duty as a wife. But 
you are a man. You have given your word to the 
priest and must keep it, for keeping faith is a man’s 
most valuable possession. Sell me and win freedom 
yourself!” 

Then Haristschandra sank down at her feet, and so 
great was his sorrow because of the noble woman’s sac¬ 
rifice that he lost consciousness. When he regained his 
senses, Sajvi said: “Now lead me to the market, be¬ 
loved ! I will remain true to you no matter how hard 
I must slave. Yet if you go into bondage then all 
of us lose caste and honor.” Wearily the king rose 
and silently accompanied his wife to the market-place. 
Their boy ran on before them and babbled about his 
little golden bed in the palace, and the wooden sword 
a servant had carved for him. 

Haristschandra murmured as he went: “Alas, I am 
the lowest of the low! I am about to sell my wife, 


128 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


like some intoxicated gamester! Alas, woe shall be 
my portion!” When they reached the market-place 
an old Brahmin stepped up to Haristschandra and 
said: “What are you doing here?” The king looked 
at the priest and thought that he might be a kind master 
to his wife, so he said with a trembling tongue: “O 
master, I am one unworthy! I am a wretch, a mon¬ 
ster! I will—I must—sell my wife, in order to meet 
a debt which must be paid!” 

“I am looking for a slave,” said the Brahmin. “My 
beautiful young wife does not care to bother with 
housework. Take these seventy gold pieces and I will 
take your wife.” Haristschandra took the coins in 
silence and turned away his face in shame. But no 
sooner had Sajvi become the Brahmin’s property than 
he pulled her down by her long hair and dragged her 
across the market-place. At Sajvi’s cry of pain, 
Haristschandra turned his head, and when the unfor¬ 
tunate man saw the insult offered his wife he fell to 
the ground as though struck by lightning. Frightened 
at seeing his father lying motionless on the ground, her 
little son ran crying after his mother. 

“O my new lord and master,” Sajvi cried to the 
cruel Brahmin, “buy my little son as well, for he will 
die if deprived of a mother’s love, and I myself would 
not be able to work if devoured by grief at the loss 
of my child!” 

Thereupon the Brahmin returned to Haristschandra, 


THE KING WHO KEPT HIS WORD 129 

roused him from his fainting spell, and counted out 
thirty additional gold pieces into the hand of the unfor¬ 
tunate man, who was so horror-struck that he hardly 
knew what was happening. Then he took the boy 
and his mother, and disappeared around the corner of 
the market-place. Haristschandra was still seated on 
the ground, staring at the gold in his hand, when the 
holy hermit, Kauschika, suddenly stood before him. 
“Take it—take it—the gift of atonement I promised!” 
he stammered in horror and thrust the gold out to the 
hermit. 

Kauschika angrily threw back his shoulders. “And 
you dare to offer me that?” cried he, his eyes sparkling 
with rage. “A mere handful of gold a king's gift of 
atonement? Again you insult and dishonor me! If 
you do not give me at least ten times the amount of 
what you now offer by sundown, the full weight of 
my curse shall fall on you!” 

When Haristschandra raised his head, the holy man 
had disappeared. He rose, murmuring sadly, “So my 
faithful wife’s sacrifice was made in vain!” But then 
he bravely raised his head again, and stepping out 
into the middle of the market-place, cried: “Who will 
buy a strong slave, wise in many things and skilled in 
the use of weapons of all kinds?” After a moment 
a tschandala stepped up to him. The tschandala is the 
hangman of the town, the lord of the gravediggers and 
torturers. Dirty and misshapen, narrow of brow and 


130 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

broad of mouth, this tschandala stood on his crooked 
legs, the evil odor of his trade clinging to him. A 
girdle of bleached bones around his middle showed 
he was an outcast. 

“Come along with me!” he said, grinning, to Harists- 
chandra, who shuddered at his sight. “Come along! 
I will pay a thousand gold pieces for you!” “Away, 
away!” cried the unhappy king. “How could I serve 
an outcast, a pariah? Better that the hermit’s curse 
should fall on me than to become the slave of a 
tschandala!” But suddenly Kauschika again stood 
before the king: “And is it thus you keep your word, 
King Haristschandra,” he asked, mockingly. “You 
refuse the gold which would enable you to keep your 
promise?” “O holy hermit,” cried the unfortunate 
man, sinking on his knees, “take me yourself! I will 
be your slave until I die. Thus I will pay my debt!” 
“You admit that you are my slave?” asked Kauschika. 
“Yes, master,” Haristschandra replied, simply. “Well, 
tschandala, take the fellow for a thousand gold pieces. 
I sell him to you!” spoke the hermit. Then Harists¬ 
chandra said no more, but obediently followed his new 
master to the knacker’s yard, before the city gates, 
where all the outcasts must dwell. 

Day and night the fallen king now served with the 
hangman’s assistants, gathering offal and carrion from 
the streets and alleys of the city and cooking the meals 
for the town dogs. Often hunger drove him to share 


THE KING WHO KEPT HIS WORD 131 

their meat with the vicious beasts, for beatings were 
the only fare he had from his master. And often he 
thought of his misfortunes, and his heart was filled 
with longing for the faithful wife who suffered for 
him. “Alas, Sajvi,” he would murmur to himself, 
“forget that you ever had a husband! Do not hope 
that he will ever buy your freedom, for he is even 
poorer and more wretched than you are.” 

One day his master, the tschandala, came to him and 
said: “Make ready, slave! To-night you must go to 
the burial ground and rob the dead of their clothes! 
You have cost me a fortune and you bring me in noth¬ 
ing, you lazy slave! Go and steal! One sixth of your 
booty, as of all other things, belongs to the king. You 
shall have two-sixths, but I get three. Go and do 
your work as it should be done, and I will be a good 
master to you!” Without a word Haristschandra went 
to carry out his master’s command. 

When he reached the place where the dead were 
buried, he sat wearily down on a stone to wait for it 
to grow dark. And then he saw a woman tottering 
along, who was carrying the body of a child in her 
arms. It was Sajvi, whose son had been killed by 
a viper’s bite. But toil and sorrow had so disfigured 
the queen that Haristschandra did not recognize his 
wife. Nor did Sajvi imagine for a moment that the 
worn, dirty man, wearing the garb of a tschandala 
slave, was the king. The fallen man sighed deeply 


i 3 2 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

when he saw the child’s little form. “Alas, how much 
wretchedness there is on earth!” he said sorrowfully. 
“It is a child—a boy—no older than my own little son!” 
Sajvi looked at him: “Haristschandra!” she cried, “O 
ye gods, all that remains of all his kingly splendor is 
his voice!” 

“Sajvi!” in turn cried the outcast, falling at the 
feet of his faithful wife. “Ah,” he cried, “how un¬ 
happy I am!” But Sajvi stroked her hapless husband’s 
hair and asked him how he happened to become a 
slave of the tschandala . Sobbing and stammering, 
Haristschandra told her of what had occurred in the 
market-place, after the Brahmin had led her and her 
child away. And in turn Sajvi, with bitter tears, told 
how her son had fallen victim to a poisonous snake 
while at play. Long the two clung together, shedding 
tears of sorrow. 

Then Haristschandra rose and said with a firm voice, 
“No, I will endure no more! Rather would I pass 
through all seven hells of the nether world, and be 
reborn as an animal, after all these tortures. No longer 
will I bear the shameful slavery of the tschandala! 
I will share the funeral pyre with my dead son and 
die in the flames. But you, Sajvi, continue to serve 
your Brahmin master faithfully, for then the gods will 
reunite us, even though we first pass through a thou¬ 
sand transformations!” But Sajvi would not have it 


THE KING WHO KEPT HIS WORD 133 

so. “I will die with you, Haristschandra,” she said 
softly, “for I cannot live without you.” 

Meanwhile twilight had fallen, and in the gathering 
darkness her husband built a pyre on which they deter¬ 
mined to die together. Carefully they bedded the 
body of their beloved child on it, and once more bowed 
in prayer before the highest of all the gods. But then 
a great light suddenly filled the burial ground and, 
led by the holy hermit, Kauschika, the gods of the 
radiant upper heavens appeared. “Stop!” cried the 
god of justice. “Stop, good King Haristschandra, we 
bring you the reward your faithfulness and patience 
have earned!” And Indra, the Lord of the Heavens, 
said: “In your mortal body you shall enter into my 
eternal paradise, O faithful man, O sufferer!” “Ye 
kind gods,” answered Haristschandra, “release me 
from my slavery! And my faithful wife also sighs 
in servitude—how then could I enjoy the joys of para¬ 
dise?” 

Then the god of justice again stepped forward and 
said: “I, Haristschandra, I was the tschandala , and 
also the Brahmin who bought Sajvi. I proved your 
firmness in pain and wretchedness. You have stood 
the test like gold in the furnace. Enter into Indra’s 
paradise!” 

“One care still weighs upon me,” replied Harists¬ 
chandra. “My kingdom, my dear land of Kosala, is 


i 3 4 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

without a ruler, and Indra’s anger lies heavy on the 
peoples who have no kings.” 

Then the highest of the gods sprinkled a few drops 
of amrita on the body of the little prince. Joyfully 
the latter arose from the dead and embraced his beloved 
parents. “There stands Kosala’s future king!” cried 
Indra. Then the sorely tried couple bowed before 
the gods with deep reverence, and a cloud chariot 
floated down from the skies and received them. The 
air resounded with melodies of the divine minstrels, 
and through an ocean of fragrance they ascended to 
eternal light and eternal joy. 


TWO CINDERELLA STORIES 


I 

La Cenerentola 

O NCE upon a time there lived a man and his wife 
who had two daughters, one more beautiful than 
the other. Of the two one always stayed by the cindery 
hearth, and because of that they called her Cenerentola, 
the cinder wench, which is the same as Cinderella. Her 
mother had no opinion of her at all and sent her out 
every morning with a couple of ducks, giving her a 
pound of hemp along to spin. 

One morning Cinderella came to a ditch with her 
two ducks, and sent them into the water, saying: 

“Ducks, ducks, drink in the creek, 

Don’t drink if the water’s thick, 

If it’s clear, then please be quick!” 

No sooner had she said these words than an old 
woman stood before her. “And what are you doing 
here?” asked the old woman. “I have brought out 
my ducks and have a pound of hemp to spin,” answered 
Cinderella. “And why do you have to do all these 

135 


136 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

things?” “Because my mother wants me to.” “Does 
she ever send out your sister with the ducks?” “No, 
never 1 ” “Here, dear child, I will make you a pres¬ 
ent! Take this comb and try and comb your hair 
with it!” 

So the old woman gave her a comb, and Cinderella 
combed her hair on one side, and as she did so kernels 
of grain kept rolling out without a stop, and the ducks 
ate them until they were fit to burst. And when she 
combed her hair on the other side, out rolled diamonds 
and rubies. Then the old woman drew out a little 
box, gave it to her and said: “Take it and put your 
diamonds and rubies in it, and when you bring it home 
hide it carefully in your bureau drawer.” “But now 
I must spin my hemp!” said Cinderella. “Never mind 
about that!” answered the old woman, “I’ll attend to 
it!” And with that she cracked a little whip she held 
in her hand and cried: “I command that the hemp be 
spun!” and in the twinkling of an eye it had been done. 
“Now go home!” said the old woman, “and come here 
every morning, for this is where you will find me.” 

So Cinderella went home, and said never a word, but 
sat in her corner of the hearth as before. Yet every 
morning she went to the same spot and there found the 
old woman, who had her comb her hair, and who 
span her hemp for her. One morning, after the hemp 
had been spun, the old woman said: “Listen! To-night 
the king’s son gives a ball, and he has invited your 


TWO CINDERELLA STORIES 


137 


father, your mother and your sister. But when they 
ask you in jest whether you want to go too, you must 
say no. Do you see this little bird? Well, hide it in 
your room, and to-night, when the others have gone, 
go to the bird and say: 

‘Birdling, birdling, here and there, 

Make me fairer far than fair!’ 

And you will be surprised. All of a sudden you will 
be wearing a ball dress. Then take my whip, which I 
give you now, crack it, and a carriage will appear. 
Get into the carriage and drive to the ball. No one 
will know you, and the king’s son will dance with you. 
But you must be careful. When all go into the dining¬ 
room to enjoy the refreshments, you must crack the 
whip and have the carriage come and drive away in 
it, so that no one can see where you go. And then you 
must return to your bird and say: 

‘Birdling, birdling, here and there, 

Make me far less fair than fair!’ 

Then you will look just as you did before and can 
sit down again among the cinders of the hearth with¬ 
out having to open your mouth.” 

The girl took the little bird, carried it home and 
hid it in her room. And, sure enough, when her 


138 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

mother saw that she had returned, she said to her: 
“Listen! The king’s son has invited us to the ball. 
Would you like to go along?” “I do not care to go,” 
said Cinderella. “Go and enjoy yourselves. I shall 
stay at home!” So that evening they went and left 
her sitting amid the ashes of the hearth. No sooner 
had they gone than she went to her little bird and did 
just as the old woman had told her to; and when she 
appeared at the ball, the king’s son danced with her and 
fell in love with her. But as soon as refreshment¬ 
time had come, she got into her carriage and drove 
home. The prince, who no longer saw her, had them 
look for her everywhere, but she could not be found, 
and no one knew who she was or where she lived. 
In the hope that at least he would see her again, the 
king’s son, before the guests left him, invited them all 
to return the next evening for another ball. 

When her father, mother and sister came home they 
found Cinderella sitting in the corner of the hearth. 
“It was a splendid ball,” said her mother, “and there 
was a lady there, a real beauty, and no one knew who 
she was. If only you could have seen her, she was so 
beautiful!” “I’m not interested,” said Cinderella. 
“See here,” said her mother, “to-morrow there will be 
another ball! Then you could come along, too.” “No, 
no! I shall stay here in my corner by the fire, for that 
suits me perfectly.” 

The next morning she drove out her ducks as usual 


TWO CINDERELLA STORIES 


139 


and found the old woman. “How did things go?” 
she asked. “Everything went well,” was her answer. 
“Then go again to-night and do just as you did last 
night. But be careful. This time they will follow 
you when you leave. So you must crack your whip 
and command: ‘Money!’ Then take the money and 
throw it out of the carriage. The people will stop to 
gather it and will lose sight of you.” 

And, sure enough, when evening came, father, 
mother and sister went to the ball and left her at home. 
Then the little bird made her even more beautiful 
than the first time, she drove to the ball, and the king’s 
son, delighted to see her, danced with her. This time 
he had given his servants strict orders to keep an eye 
on her. And, in fact, when the time for refreshments 
came, and she entered her carriage, the servants ran 
after her. But she threw a lot of money out of the 
carriage, and while the servants stopped to pick it 
up she disappeared from sight. 

So the prince, in despair, made up his mind to give 
a third ball the following night, but as before Cinder¬ 
ella pretended to take no interest in the news. In the 
morning she drove out her ducks and met the old 
woman: “So far everything has gone well,” said the 
old woman, “but be careful. To-night you will be 
wearing a dress with little golden bells and golden 
slippers. You may be sure they will run after you 
again. Then throw money to them as before, and one 


140 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

of the slippers. But this time they will find out whither 
you drive.” 

And, sure enough, when she was alone that evening 
in the house, the little bird brought her a splendid 
dress covered with little golden bells, and to put on 
her feet she had golden slippers that were a wonder. 
And the prince danced with her, and fell more and 
more in love with her. Then, as she left to enter her 
carriage, the prince’s servants hurried after her. But 
she got in and drove away with the servants chasing 
along behind. But this time the king had commanded 
his servants to find out where she lived under pain of 
death, so they paid no attention to the money she threw 
out of the window, though one of them picked up her 
slipper. And they all ran so swiftly that they really 
saw where the carriage stopped. So they returned 
and told the king and brought him the slipper, and 
the king gave them a great reward. 

The next morning the girl drove out the ducks and 
met the old woman and the latter said to her: “This 
morning you will have to make haste, for the king’s 
son is coming to fetch you!” And as she said this she 
gave her the comb and the little box, span her hemp 
for her and sent her home. No sooner did her mother 
catch sight of her than she asked: “Why have you come 
home so early to-day?” But all Cinderella said was: 
“See how fat the ducks are!” And when her mother 
looked at the ducks and saw how fat they were, she 


TWO CINDERELLA STORIES 


141 

did not say another word. At noon the king’s son 
came in his coach. He knocked at the door, they saw 
who had come, and all ran downstairs save Cinderella. 
She went to the little bird and said: 

“Birdling, birdling, here and there, 

Make me fairer far than fair!” 

And again thedittle bird caused the dress covered with 
little golden bells to appear, but there was only one 
slipper. Meanwhile the prince asked Cinderella’s 
father: “How many daughters have you?” 

“Only one, Your Royal Highness, the one you see 
here!” 

“What! Have you no other daughter?” 

“Well, yes, Your Royal Highness, I have another 
one, but I am ashamed of her. She sits in the corner 
of the hearth and is covered with ashes.” 

“Be that as it may,” said the prince, “go and call 
her!” 

So her father called: “Ho there, Cinderella, come 
downstairs for a moment!” She did so and as she 
stepped downstairs the little golden bells rang out, 
dolin, dolin, at every step. 

“Look at the silly thing,” said her mother, “she must 
be dragging the shovel and the fire tongs along with 
her!” 

But no sooner had she appeared in all her finery than 


i 4 2 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


she dazzled their eyes, and they could not utter a word. 

But the prince said: “This is the girl for whom I 
have been looking, and the only thing she lacks is a 
golden slipper. Let us see whether this is the one?” 
With that he drew the golden slipper from his pocket 
and gave it to Cinderella, who turned rosy-red and, 
putting it on, proved that it really was her own. Then 
the king’s son asked her hand in marriage, and her 
parents could not say no. And Cinderella took the 
little bird and all the jewels the old woman had given 
her and went along with the young prince. Their 
wedding was exceedingly splendid, and Cinderella 
gave rich gifts to her father, mother and sister, just 
as though they had always been kind to her. 

II 

The Youngest of Seven Sisters and the 
Djulung-djulung Fish 

In the old, old days there once were seven sisters 
who dwelt in the land of Bantang, on the island of 
Celebes. When their parents died the oldest sister took 
command of the keys and ordered the management of 
the home, and day by day gave out their daily tasks 
to her six sisters. It was the duty of the youngest to 
do the hardest and heaviest work, and she had to fetch 
the wood for the kitchen fire every day. 


TWO CINDERELLA STORIES 


143 


Now one day while she was bathing in the river 
she caught a Djulung-djulung fish. She took it with 
her when she came from the river, and placed it in 
a pool of water in the grotto named Tja-lindo-lindo. 
And there she fed the fish day by day, giving it half 
of her own portion of rice. She would go to the pool 
of water and sing: 

“Djulung-djulung, hear my song, 

Tasty rice Eve brought along, 

Washed in milk, to make you strong!” 

And as soon as the fish heard her singing it would 
at once swim to the surface of the water and eat its 
meal. Thus the fish was fed every morning by the 
maiden, and it grew and thrived and soon became as 
long as a pillow. 

But alas, alas! The other sisters noticed all too soon 
that the youngest was growing thinner from day to 
day. And as they could not make clear to themselves 
why this was, they decided, in order to find out, to 
follow the youngest secretly wherever she went and 
watch whatever she did. It was not long before they 
discovered that she always gave half of her food to 
the Djulung-djulung fish, and for that reason was grow¬ 
ing thinner and thinner all the time herself. Now it is 
hard to say whether they did what they did out of 
pure love for their sister, or whether the beautiful 


144 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

Djulung-djulung fish roused their appetite. For be 
that as it may, one day they caught the fish and secretly 
ate it up. 

When the youngest sister went to the grotto of Tja- 
lindo-lindo the following morning in order to feed 
her fish, she sang, as was her custom: 

“Djulung-djulung, hear my song, 

Tasty rice I’ve brought along, 

Washed in milk to make you strong!” 

But this time the fish did not come at her call, and 
in vain the maiden waited for it to appear. So she 
returned home sad and despairing, wrapped herself in 
her sarong, and slept day and night. 

One morning the crowing of a rooster awakened her. 
And the rooster told her that the sad remains of her 
friend the Djulung-djulung, his fishbones, were hidden 
in the kitchen. At once the youngest sister rose, 
searched for the fishbones, and when she had found 
them, buried them in the grotto of Tja-lindo-lindo. 
And as she did so she sang: 

“Djulung-djulung, here take root, 

Grow into a lofty, splendid tree; 

For Java’s king to gather, may your leaves 
Fall toward Java, Java o’er the seal” 


TWO CINDERELLA STORIES 


145 


And, sure enough, the fishbones grew into a stately 
tree whose trunk was iron, its leaves silk, its thorns 
steel needles, its blossoms gold and its fruits diamonds. 

When the tree had attained its growth, one of its 
silken leaves, just as the maiden had wished, fell on the 
island of Java. And when the beautiful leaf was 
brought to the King of Java, he at once made up his 
mind to visit the land which had produced such a beau¬ 
tiful tree. So he set out for Celebes, and one day, as 
he was wandering about the island, he saw before him 
the magic tree of Tja-lindo-lindo. He was very curious 
to learn the story of the wonder tree, but no one could 
tell him anything about it. 

But he was informed that not far from the grotto 
there lived seven sisters, and that they might be able 
to give him some information. And when he heard 
this the King of Java sent for the seven maidens. Only 
the six older sisters appeared, and when the king asked 
them about the tree they were not able to satisfy his 
curiosity. 

Now when the king found that they could tell him 
nothing, he finally asked them whether they did not 
have another sister, and where she might be. Then 
all six answered: “Yes, we have another sister! She 
is the youngest. But we have left her home, for she 
is a brainless thing, and only useful about the house 1” 

But in spite of what they said, the king sent for the 


146 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

seventh sister. And behold, a wonderful thing hap¬ 
pened! When the maiden came, the great tree bowed 
down to the ground before her, and the maiden picked 
some of its leaves and fruits and handed them to the 
king. 

The King of Java was much surprised at so strange 
a happening, and at the same time he was so pleased 
by the attention the maiden had shown him that he 
asked her to become his wife. And the seventh sister 
at once said that she would. So she married him and 
they returned to his kingdom together. And since the 
seventh sister had a kind heart, she let her other six 
sisters go with her to share her happiness in the land 
of Java. 


THE WISHING-STONE 


O NCE upon a time, in the days of good King 
Dagobert, there lived in the city of Paris a poor 
pastry cook named Anselm, who had thirteen mother¬ 
less-children. Now even in good King Dagobert’s time 
this was a large family to raise and often—for all he 
was a pastry cook—their father had to send his little 
ones supperless to bed. 

One day, as the pastry cook went through the Paris 
streets with the small portable stove he carried strapped 
before him, crying: “Spice cakes, spice cakes hot! 
Who’ll buy? Who’ll buy? Who’ll buy?” he was 
stopped by a tall thin man who wore an astrologer’s 
black gown and tall black cap. The pastry cook 
thought he had found a buyer, and at once held out 
two spice cakes to him on his flat, tin spoon. But the 
astrologer—and every astrologer is a bit of a magician 
—waved him away. “Star dust, my good man, star 
dust is my only food,” said he. The disappointed 
pastry cook drew back his spice cakes. “Then why 
do you stop me if you want no cakes?” he asked. 

“I am going to do more for you than buy a pair of 
greasy spice cakes,” said the astrologer, in a superior 
tone of voice. “I am going to relieve you of care and 
147 


148 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


expense by taking one of your children into my service 
as a famulus!’ The pastry cook stared at him: “And 
what may a famulus be, respected sir?” he asked. “A 
famulus” replied the man in black, “ ’tis a Latin word, 
means a lad whom some kind astrologer is good enough 
to adopt and train in his arts—star-gazing, magic 
formulas which show the way to find hidden gold, 
the science of foretelling events which will come to 
pass, all that sort of thing. A bright lad, who has been 
the famulus of an astrologer for a year or so, is bound 
to make his fortune.” 

The worthy pastry cook was overjoyed to think that 
his baker’s dozen was to be reduced to twelve. In 
his mind’s eye he saw the lucky child chosen by the 
wise man return home after he had served his appren¬ 
ticeship. Anselm beheld him clasp his father to his 
breast, and then stiffen like a pointer dog who sees 
a bird. “There is hidden gold under the floor, father!” 
he would cry. “Raise yonder plank and dig it up!” 
And once the treasure was raised his troubles would 
be at an end. 

All this passed through the pastry cook’s mind, but 
what he said was: “If you will come to my home with 
me, respected sir, you may choose your famulus at 
once among my thirteen.” And ten minutes later the 
astrologer was looking over Anselm’s thirteen chil¬ 
dren, drawn up in a line for inspection in the pastry 
cook’s humble lodging. “I think I will have this one,” 


THE WISHING-STONE 


149 


he said at last, pointing to little John, a sturdy, six- 
teen-year-old boy. So, bidding his father a cheerful 
farewell, and with high hopes of a good supper, little 
John went off with the astrologer to be his famulus . 

The astrologer lived in a ruinous, old tower on the 
the very outskirts of the city. That is to say, it looked 
ruinous from the outside, but was richly and splendidly 
furnished inside. A great laboratory formed the top 
floor of the tower. There, for several weeks, John 
cleaned the glass vessels filled with curious colored 
liquids which stood about on oaken tables, built fires, 
swept and dusted. But the astrologer said nothing 
about teaching him the secrets of his art. For, to tell 
the truth, the astrologer had never intended to do so. 
He needed a young lad who was innocent of evil to 
help him gain a treasure which he himself, being a 
wicked old magician, could not secure through his 
own unaided efforts. And that was why he had so 
kindly offered to adopt John. 

One night, after they had eaten their supper—for 
the magician did not live on star dust, as he had told 
the pastry cook, but enjoyed all sorts of good things 
to eat, especially roast chicken, a fact that helped little 
John over his first homesickness—the astrologer said: 
“We start in half an hour for the Sargasso Sea! You 
do not know what or where it is, but that does not 
matter. What does matter is that you do exactly as I 
tell you when we get there. And what you are to 


150 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

do I will let you know when we arrive. Now come 
with me.” And with that he began to climb the ladder 
which led to the trap-door that gave out on the flat 
roof of the tower, and pushed it open. Here a large 
rug lay rolled up in one corner. The magician went 
over to it, unrolled it and bade John stand on it beside 
him. Far below their feet twinkled the lights of the 
city, above them shone the stars. As they stood there 
on the carpet the magician, in a solemn tone of voice, 
began to mutter a spell, and when he had finished, 
much to John’s surprise, the carpet began to move. It 
rose slowly from the tower roof and then, as the ma¬ 
gician pulled John down beside him, shot off with ever 
greater speed through the air. “We might as well 
sleep now,” said John’s master, “for by morning we 
will have reached the Sargasso Sea!” 

When morning came, John rubbed his eyes land 
awoke. The magic carpet hung motionless in the air 
and some thirty feet below it, for miles and.miles, as 
far as the eye could reach, lay a great sea—a sea of 
green-gray and piirple kelp and weeds. It was more 
like some vast prairie, however, than an ocean, for 
the weeds grew so thickly that the water beneath them 
was hidden from sight. 

While the magician was uncoiling a long ladder of 
silk rope at one end of the carpet, John crept to the 
other end and looked down. Directly beneath him lay 
a tangle of dark shapes—a sort of island in the kelp 


THE WISHING-STONE 


151 

—yet not altogether overgrown by seaweed. There 
was something familiar about the dark shapes below 
him, but at first John could not make out what it was. 
And then, suddenly, he knew. These were ships, ships 
such as he had seen pass by on the river Seine at home, 
when he went swimming from the docks with his boy 
companions. 

But these ships—they were of all sorts and sizes— 
never moved. They lay as motionless on the motion¬ 
less sea of kelp as the carpet which hung above them. 
In fact, a curious stillness hung over the whole scene. 
Not a breath of air stirred in the heavens, and the sea 
of green and purple kelp and weed was as still as a 
painted ocean. If there was such a thing as a tide 
or a swell, it moved so far below the thick green and 
purple verdure of the sea that it did not even stir it 
And, so curious was this lifeless stillness, that John 
felt ill at ease, though he was a brave boy who hardly 
knew what fear meant. 

While he had been looking down at the strange island 
of motionless ships beneath him, the magician had flung 
out his silken ladder, which had a heavy iron weight 
at its end, so that it dropped with a thud on the deck 
of a curious, old vessel which lay directly beneath them. 
Then he turned to John: 

“If you do just as I tell you, my boy,” he said, “our 
fortunes are made! We are above the very middle 
of the Sargasso Sea. From the beginning of time it 


152 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

has been written in the stars that certain ships shall 
never sink at sea or rot ashore. These are the ships 
which find their way to the Sargasso Sea. A slow, 
steady drift of currents brings them here from all the 
far oceans of the world to this one spot which is land 
and sea at the same time, and once they reach the 
middle of the Sargasso Sea they are there to stay until 
the Day of Judgment. All of them are ships on which 
some great evil has been done, and which have been 
condemned with those who manned them to wait in 
the Sargasso Sea through the centuries, until the trump 
of Gabriel stirs the weeds. Now many of these ships 
are filled with priceless treasures—with a wealth of 
gold and gems beyond all telling. But I cannot let 
myself down to gather them”—here the magician gave 
a deep sigh—“only a blameless child may tread those 
enchanted decks unharmed and gather the treasure 
in their holds. So you must go where I cannot. When 
you have found the choicest jewels in this treas¬ 
ure-house—for the gold we must leave for another time 
—I will give you your share. Then you can return 
to your father and make him a rich man. One thing 
more,” added the magician, “my spells will make it 
possible for me to keep the magic carpet here for one 
hour by the hourglass, but not a minute longer.” He 
held up a golden whistle which hung around his neck 
from a silver chain. “I shall blow the whistle ten 
minutes before the hour is up. When you hear it 


THE WISHING-STONE 


*53 


come at once to the ladder and tie what treasure you 
may have gathered to it. I will pull it up and then 
let down the rope for you!” 

This is what the magician said; but it was not what 
he meant to do. He was greedy and avaricious, and 
did not want to share the treasure with John. His plan 
was to have John make a bundle of the treasure and 
tie it to the ladder. Once he had hauled up the treasure 
he did not mean to let the ladder down again. Instead, 
he would speak his spell and sail back on the magic 
carpet to Paris, leaving John in the middle of the 
Sargasso Sea. Being an evil magician, he would do 
just that and it would never worry him at all. 

John was growing very weary of the magic carpet. 
“It would be great fun to hunt jewels in the dead 
ships,” thought he; so he cheerfully nodded his head, 
slid down the rope-ladder and in another moment stood 
on the deck of the ship beneath the magic carpet. It 
was a long craft whose bulwarks rose but a few feet 
above the weeds and were pierced with holes for the 
oars of rowers. The prow was formed of a great 
wolf’s head, with red tongue and white, grinning teeth. 
John went down some steps at one side of the fore¬ 
deck and looked into a sort of half-cabin, without a 
door. Skins lay on the floor and a great bear hide was 
flung across a rude wooden chair. In one side of the 
wall was a small, hinged door, with hasp and staple. 
John pulled out the staple, and in the space behind 


154 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

the door stood a little brass box. A key was in the 
keylock, and John put the chest on the oak table in 
the middle of the cabin and turned the key. 

Then he clapped his hands and gave a joyful shout. 
When he pushed back the lid of the little brass box, 
the cabin was filled with sudden flashes of radiance. 
The sunlight, filtering through a chink in the deck 
overhead, fell directly on the box, and the flashes came 
from the great jewels which it touched: gleaming 
topaz stones and wonderful rubies, some rose-color, 
others a deep, glowing crimson. Where the sunlight 
touched them there rose glittering sparks of green, 
blue, red and yellow flame. When he had silently 
enjoyed the beauty of the stones for a moment, John 
closed the lid of the brass box, locked it and turned 
to leave the cabin. As he did so a voice in an unknown 
tongue spoke solemnly. John turned quickly, but the 
cabin was empty. Strange to say, however, though he 
did not know the tongue in which the words were 
spoken, he understood it. The voice had said: 

“If, without you, treasure rise 
To the carpet in the skies, 

It will sail of! through the blue 
Leaving you, leaving you!” 

Then and there John made up his mind that any 
treasure which went up the rope-ladder would go 


THE WISHING-STONE 


155 


with and not without him. Up on deck once more 
he saw that only ten feet away lay another ship. It 
was a much higher vessel and towered above the one 
he was on. A rope, however, hung invitingly over 
the side, and John decided to accept the invitation. 
He let himself over the side of the craft he was on 
and felt the seaweed to see whether it would carry 
him. It would. There was a slight yielding, a slight 
tremor as he walked over it, such as one feels when 
stepping over marshy ground, but no more. To seize 
the rope and climb the deck of the second ship took 
but a moment. 

John could not know it, but it was an old Roman 
war-galley, one of those ships called triremes. John 
made straight for the cabin, for he knew that was the 
place in which to hunt for treasure. But there he 
had a surprise. It was larger than the cabin of the 
first ship. There were chairs curiously carved of metal 
and ivory, and at a great round table sat a figure in 
armor. It was that of the captain who had once com¬ 
manded the trireme . But a skeleton sat within the 
bronze shell. 

There never had been a skeleton in John’s family, 
yet he was not afraid. One of the first things his mas¬ 
ter, the magician, had taught him (with this very 
chance in view) was that skeletons were harmless. So 
John was not frightened. Now the trireme was one 
that a Roman general named Lucullus had sent to 


156 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

Rome, loaded with the treasure of the kingdoms of 
Asia. But it had never reached the town of Ostia, 
on the yellow Tiber River, but had come to join the 
dead ships in the Sargasso Sea instead. And the very 
choicest of its cargo of treasure lay in a small leather 
bag on the table before the skeleton in armor. Watch¬ 
ing the figure closely, John stretched out his hand and 
seized the treasure. The figure never moved. As 
John clambered up on deck again he once more heard 
a voice, in still another tongue, and once more under¬ 
stood the meaning of the words he did not know: 

“If, without you, treasure rise 
To the carpet in the skies, 

It will sail off through the blue, 

Leaving you, leaving you I” 

“Not a bit of it,” thought John to himself. “Either 
the treasure and I go up the rope together or we 
stay here!” For now he was convinced that the ma¬ 
gician meant to betray him, and once he held the 
treasure in his hands, leave him there in the dead Sar¬ 
gasso Sea, with its dead ships and its skeletons, and 
all the treasures which could not buy him a drink 
of water or a crust of bread. Once up the trireme's 
companionway, John threw himself down on the plank¬ 
ing and, untying the mouth of the leather bag, poured 
out its contents on the deck. The hot sun shone over- 


THE WISHING-STONE 


157 


head and John had to hold his hands before his eyes 
to shield them from the dazzling blaze of fire which 
shot from the little heap of jewels. It flamed with 
all the colors of the rainbow and great pink pearls, 
as large as pigeon’s eggs, glowed a deeper rose where 
they caught the ruddier tint of carbuncle and ruby. 
John shut his eyes and, holding the bag open with one 
hand, poured one fistful of gems after another into it. 
When he had thrust in the last handful of jewels he 
saw a curious stone still lying on the deck. 

It was an oval stone, like a moonstone, yet with a 
curious shifting glow hidden in its cloudy, gray heart. 
It took John’s fancy, and instead of putting it in the 
bag with the rest, he slipped it into the pocket of his 
breeches. 

As he did so the magician’s golden whistle rang out 
shrill on the air and John, looking up, saw him dancing 
about excitedly on the magic carpet, and beckoning 
violently for him to return. John jumped up, ran to 
the side of the ship, slid down the rope and, crossing 
the quivering kelp, was soon standing beneath the 
long silk rope-ladder, with its knotted footholds, which 
hung from the carpet. The magician bent over the 
edge. When he saw the brass box and the leather bag 
in John’s hands a pleased smile crossed his face: 
“Here,” he cried as a length of thin cord dropped on 
the deck beside John, “tie the treasures on so that I 
can pull them up!” 


158 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


At that moment, coming from all the dead ships 
which lay around him, John heard a soft chorus: 

“If, without you, treasure rise 
To the carpet in the skies, 

It will sail off through the blue, 

Leaving you, leaving you!” 

“No,” he called up to the magician, “I’ll climb up 
with the treasure,” and he grasped the rope to clamber 
up hand over hand. But this did not suit the magician 
at all. “Disobedient boy,” he shouted, “is that the 
way a famulus should act! Drop back on deck at 
once! If you do not, I’ll cut the rope!” 

He meant to frighten John. But John was not fright¬ 
ened. “Why should I send up the treasure first,” he 
cried, “when I can bring it up with me just as easily?” 
“No, no, no!” shouted the magician in his rage, and 
forgetting that the precious minutes were passing. 
And, suddenly, while he danced about on his carpet, 
vainly trying to make John change his mind, the carpet 
began to move, slowly at first and then faster and faster, 
till the silk rope-ladder which hung from it stood out 
like a tail. For a moment John could see the magician 
capering about in a mad rage. He had dashed his 
tall, black cap down on the carpet and seemed to be 
trampling on it. But in another minute carpet and 


THE WISHING-STONE 


159 

magician were no more than a black dot on the horizon, 
and then were gone. 

John looked about him. There he was—all alone 
in the middle of the Sargasso Sea—round about him 
lay the silent ships and the silent seaweed, and above 
him stretched the silent sky, with never a seagull or 
albatross to break the stillness with a cry. As he stood 
there on the deck of the old ship on which he had 
landed, his eyes filled with tears, for all he was so 
stout-hearted a boy. He thought of his kind father, 
the pastry cook, and wondered whether he would ever 
see him again. He thought of the docks on the river 
Seine. Sometimes good King Dagobert himself would 
come down to the dock. Behind him would walk the 
royal treasurer, carrying a bag of silver pennies. These 
good King Dagobert would fling into the clear water, 
and John and his companions would dive for them 
with shouts of glee. He looked at the mysterious ocean 
of seaweed and shuddered to think of what he might 
find if he dove beneath it. 

As he stood lost in gloomy thought, John put his 
hand in his pocket and his fingers touched the curious 
stone. He drew it forth and was turning it idly in his 
hands, when a voice behind said: “Command, and I 
will obey my master!” John turned and, lo and be¬ 
hold, a monstrous figure with a long white beard stood 
behind him. “Who are you?” asked John, 


i6o WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


“I am an afrit and must obey the commands of the 
owner of the wishing-stone you hold in your hand!” 
When he said these words John knew just where he 
was at. The Book of the Thousand and One Nights 
was good King Dagobert’s favorite reading. As a con¬ 
sequence, this famous work was used in all the schools 
in Paris for a reader, and John—who went to school 
when he was not playing truant along the docks—felt 
quite at ease when the afrit spoke. He was not the 
least bit frightened, but said in the most matter-of-fact 
way: “Good afrit, be so kind as to carry me and my 
treasures at once to No. 12 Rue Pignalle, in Paris, 
where Anselm, the pastry cook, lives.” And at once 
the afrit placed him on his shoulder and off they went 
through the air. 

The afrit, you must know, flew much faster than the 
magic carpet, and in spite of the start the magician 
had John had no sooner reached the Bay of Biscay 
than who should he spy but the treacherous magician, 
seated sorrowfully on his carpet and seemingly plunged 
in dark thoughts, ploughing along through the air. 

Now John, as you may have noticed, was an intelli¬ 
gent lad. Among the boys who had dived for the 
silver pennies good King Dagobert cast into the Seine, 
he had always brought up the most. When he saw 
the magician he rubbed his wishing-stone and the afrit 
stopped: “Listen, good afrit,” said John, “catch up 
with yonder magic carpet flying just ahead of us. Put 



“The afrit flew much faster than the magic carpet” 














































































































































































9 



























































THE WISHING-STONE 


161 


me on the carpet and take the man in the long black 
robe who is sitting on it on your back. Then fly with 
him to the deck of the ship in the Sargasso Sea, where 
you found me, and leave him there.” 

“To hear is to obey,” said the afrit . In a moment 
the magic carpet had been overhauled, and while John 
continued on his way to the astrologer’s tower, where 
he arrived that very evening, the afrit flew back to 
the Sargasso Sea and left the magician there. But no 
sooner had he dropped him on the deck of the old 
ship than the evil magician blew up with a tremendous 
report and disappeared in thin air. For the treasures 
of the Sargasso Sea were protected by a powerful spell, 
and this was what happened to any who came hunting 
for them, unless they were blameless children like 
John. And, needless to say, the magician was not a 
blameless child, but an ancient sorcerer skilled in every 
evil, black art. 

When John reached the magician’s tower he went 
straight to bed and woke up refreshed and happy in 
the morning. Below him, as he looked out of the 
window, stretched the sea of the Paris roofs and not 
that of the Sargasso weeds. After he had prepared 
his breakfast and eaten it and concealed the priceless 
jewels he had brought from the Sargasso Sea about his 
person, he set out for No. 12 Rue Pignalle. 

When he entered the humble room where his father 
Anselm, having already dressed eleven of his little ones, 


162 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


was now finishing with the twelfth, the good pastry 
cook raised his hands to heaven in his surprise. 

“And how are you getting along, my son? Are you 
still a famulus? And how is your good master?” 

“I am no longer a famulus, dear father,” answered 
John, while all his little brothers and sisters stared at 
him with admiring eyes. “I have learned so much and 
learned it so quickly, that now I have a wishing-stone 
of my own, and no longer need serve any one. Besides, 
my master, the astrologer, has gone on a long journey 
to try to discover how to extract gold from kelp, so 
I am free.” With that he embraced all and discussed 
with his father how they might best turn the wealth 
he had gathered into gold. “For,” said he, “I have found 
a treasure of precious stones which will make it need¬ 
less for you ever to sell another spice cake.” Then he 
put his hand in his pocket to show his father the wish¬ 
ing-stone—but it was gone! Whether or not it had 
fallen from his pocket into the sea when he changed 
to the carpet, he never knew. “Well, it is gone, and 
that is the end of it,” thought John, and remembered 
that he still had a fortune in jewels. 

Good King Dagobert was as merry as Old King 
Cole, but for all the good king flung silver pennies 
into the Seine that the boys of Paris might dive for 
them, his tax-gatherers were serious-minded people. 
If a poor pastry cook blossomed out into the owner 
of immense wealth over night, they would be sure to 


THE WISHING-STONE 163 

search his house. Then the whole wonderful treasure 
of rubies, pearls and diamonds would be seized and 
tucked away in the king’s treasury, and Anselm could 
peddle spice cakes as before. So Anselm disposed of 
the gems little by little, a few at a time, which enabled 
John to travel to distant lands where he sold the bulk 
of them for vast sums of gold to princes, kings and 
emperors. In the course of a year John and his father 
no longer needed to practice concealment. Good King 
Dagobert made Anselm Lord High Intendent of the 
Royal Cakebox, and created John Prince of Algues 
and Duke of Soude. His brothers all entered the army, 
the navy or the church, and his sisters became maids- 
of-honor to the queen and married powerful lords and 
barons. 

But John never tried to go back to visit the treasure 
ships of the Sargasso Sea. “Why should I,” he was 
wont to say to his father Anselm. “Enough is enough 
and as good as a feast. We have all we need to make 
us happy, so why seek to gain more!” And, in fact, 
the only thing he regretted was that as one of the great 
lords of the kingdom, he no longer could dive for 
pennies in the Seine. Sometimes, when he was in at¬ 
tendance on good King Dagobert while the latter 
amused himself casting the bright silver coins into the 
river, amid the merry shouts of his young subjects, 
John would sigh. How he longed to shed his white 
§atin doublet and scarlet hose, kick off his yellow leather 


164 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


shoes with pointed toes that curled backward, raise his 
arms over his head and dive in. Yet that would never 
do for a Prince of Algues and a Duke of Soude. After 
all, no one can expect to have every little thing in life 
exactly as he wishes it to be. 


r 


RICH BROTHER AND POOR BROTHER 


O NCE there were two brothers, one of them very 
rich and the other very poor. Now one day it 
chanced that while the poor brother was out guarding 
the sheaves of corn in his prosperous brother’s fields, 
he saw, muffled up in a mantle, the white figure of a 
woman, who was gleaning along the cornrows and 
adding her gleanings to the piles of sheaves. When 
she drew near him he caught her by the arm and asked 
her who she might be and what she was doing. 

“I am your brother’s Good Luck,” she answered, 
“and I am gleaning the fallen ears to add to what he 
already has.” 

“Tell me, I beg of you,” asked the poor brother, 
“where my own Good Luck may be?” 

“In the direction of the sunrise,” answered the fairy, 
and disappeared. 

So the poor man decided to set out in search of his 
Good Luck. In the morning, when he was about to 
leave his hut, Misery suddenly stepped out from be¬ 
hind the oven, and, with tears in her eyes, begged him 
to take her along. 

“Alas, my friend,” replied the poor man, “you are 
very weak and the road is a long one; but if you want 
165 


166 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


to go, wrap yourself up and get into this empty bottle 
so that I can carry you.” 

So Misery climbed into the bottle, and the young 
man at once thrust in the cork and set out on his way. 
Before long he came to a swamp and into the swamp 
he threw the bottle, and thus was rid of Misery for 
good and all. A few days later he reached a great 
city and there took service with a noble, who wanted 
him to dig a cellar. 

“You will receive no pay,” said the nobleman, “but 
should you find anything while you are digging it shall 
belong to you.” 

After digging for a time, he found a lump of gold. 
According to the agreement it was his, but like a good 
fellow he gave half of it to the nobleman and went on 
digging. Before long his pick struck against an iron 
door. The poor youth opened it and found that it led 
into a cavern heaped with riches. 

“Open, my lord, open!” then came a voice from be¬ 
hind an arch. The good fellow raised a curtain which 
hung before the arch, and out came a beautiful girl, 
clad in white who, bowing before him, said: 

“I am your Good Luck, which you have been seek¬ 
ing all over the world; from now on I never shall leave 
you or your family!” With these words she dis¬ 
appeared. 

The young man who had been poor divided his 
wealth with his master, as before, and still had a splen- 


RICH BROTHER, POOR BROTHER 167 

did fortune, which grew larger with every passing day. 
But his prosperity did not lead him to forget his days 
of poverty, and he never spared alms for the poor. 
One day, going through the city, he met his brother, 
who had come there on business. He at once took him 
to his home and told him the whole story of his adven¬ 
tures : how he had seen his brother’s Good Luck watch¬ 
ing over his brother’s fields; how he had rid himself 
of Misery; and all the rest. Then he insisted that he 
be his guest for several days, and when he left gave 
him a dagger with a hilt of gold and handsome gifts 
for his wife and children. 

But the rich brother was a man of a discontented 
mind and envied his brother his Good Luck. On his 
way home he cudgeled his brains to find some way 
of sending Misery back to his brother’s house. And 
when he reached the place where his brother had 
thrown the bottle into the swamp, he searched about 
until he found it. 

The minute he uncorked the bottle and Misery came 
out and recovered her original shape, she began to 
leap with joy, embracing and kissing her benefactor 
and assuring him of her gratitude. 

“Until death us part,” she said, “I will thank you 
and your family, and will never abandon you!” 

In vain the envious brother tried to get rid of her, 
telling her to return to her former master: but there 
was no way he could rid himself of Misery, neither 


168 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


by selling her, threatening her, burying or abandon¬ 
ing her; she trod in his footprints wherever he went. 

All the rich goods he was bringing home with him 
were stolen by robbers in the middle of the road. 
When he reached his native village, reduced to pov¬ 
erty, he found his house was a heap of ashes and that 
his cornfields had been drowned by a flood. 

And all that was left of the envious rich brother’s 
fortune was—Misery! 


THE TAILOR OF THE DWARFS 


L ONG, long ago there lived in the old imperial city 
of Aachen a master-tailor named Caspar, who 
had a high opinion of himself because he was specially 
privileged to make all the housing-cloths and garments 
for the imperial horses and servants. When he sat at 
his table, a pointed white cap on his head, his measure 
in hand like a scepter, one might almost have taken 
him for the emperor himself. His apprentices all 
stood in fear of him, and the wildest and rudest jour¬ 
neymen tailors grew tame and obedient when they 
had spent a week or two in his workshop. The lazy 
became industrious and those who liked singing songs 
or telling stories better than taking stitches soon grew 
as silent as fish under his rule. Yet many claimed that 
it was not due so much to Caspar himself, that the ob¬ 
stinate and impudent young apprentices were so easily 
controlled, as to Caspar’s lovely young daughter, Rose, 
who kept house for him. 

Yet, for all Caspar’s discipline and Rose’s friendly 
kindness exerted a softening and civilizing influence on 
the members of his business family, in one case they 
were exerted in vain. Philip, Caspar’s nephew, was 
a good-natured youth, and—when he wished—a skill- 

169 


170 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

ful and industrious workman. But he would talk, 
laugh, sing and joke while he worked, and was con¬ 
tinually throwing the workshop into confusion and 
uproar. Now Caspar often had tried to break him of 
this bad habit, in public and in private, but in vain; 
for the more he preached the worse Philip conducted 
himself, and in spite of the pleadings of Rose—who 
was fond of him—he grew more careless day by day, 
and, not content with doing his work badly and care¬ 
lessly, played practical jokes with the clothes of the 
best customers. He thought it great fun, for instance, 
to sew bright-colored rags on the solemn black mantle 
of a town counselor, which, at first hidden by the col¬ 
lar, would be exposed by the least breath of wind, and 
thus make the respectable magistrate the jest of grace¬ 
less street urchins. 

But it has well been said that the pitcher goes its 
way to the well until it breaks. One day Master Cas¬ 
par took a great piece of chalk and drew a line through 
his nephew’s name on the wall. In spite of Philip’s 
pleas and Rose’s tears, he told the youth he would have 
to leave his house on the morrow. And at the same 
time the master-tailor solemnly vowed that he would 
not take him into his shop and home again until he 
could show him six hard-earned golden ducats—a 
great sum in those days—as an earnest of betterment. 
The other apprentices turned pale when they heard 
this solemn vow; but Philip, seeing that what must 


THE TAILOR OF THE DWARFS 171 

be must be, packed his knapsack, fastened his shears 
and iron to it, and took leave of Master Caspar and 
Rose that very afternoon. Rose, when he said good¬ 
bye, handed her cousin a purse full of silver pennies 
as a parting gift. As she did so two tears rolled down 
her cheeks, and Philip, his heart wrung to think he 
had lost her owing to his own folly, hurried from the 
house, his own eyes wet. 

Poor Philip, knowing how hard it was for a journey¬ 
man tailor to find work, did not have the courage to 
follow the highroad to the next large city. Instead he 
dreamily climbed the mountain called the Losberg, 
which lay behind his native town of Aachen, and soon 
had lost his way among the rocks and the pine and 
chestnut forests which covered its top. As he strayed 
he remembered many an excursion he had made to 
the mountain when a boy. For there were all sorts 
of petrified shells and little sea-animals to be found in 
the sandstone, and often he had brought a pocketful 
home with him on a Sunday. 

The great forests of old, dark pine trees which 
stretched beyond the rocks had the reputation of being 
haunted. Formerly woodchoppers brought home 
beautiful shells from it, but they soon took them back 
again, for in the middle of the night the shells would 
begin to whimper softly with the complaining voices 
of little children that are being hurt. Old folks said 
that this whimpering was done by the little Hurlemen 


172 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

who lived in the stones and shells, and of whom it was 
unsafe to make enemies. For that reason the forest 
of the Losberg was generally undisturbed, and no 
shells were taken from it. 

Lost in sad thoughts of his childhood days in Aachen, 
of Master Caspar and, most of all, of Rose, Philip did 
not notice where he was going, and as the sun began 
to set, found he had lost his way. It was too late to 
think of getting out of the forest that night, so Philip 
hunted up a place where he would be protected from 
the cold wind, and, settling down on the moss beneath 
a great, pine tree, said his prayers and soon fell asleep. 

Suddenly, while he slept, he thought he heard some 
one call his name. And, since Rose usually called him 
when it was time to get up in the morning, he thought 
it was time to go down to the workshop and answered 
drowsily: “Coming, coming, Rose!” But the thin, 
long-drawn laughter which fell on his ear awoke him 
from his dreams. He opened his eyes, and there, in 
the midst of the forest, in a faint light which came 
neither from sun nor moon, he saw a little man not over 
a foot in heighth. The dwarf had a good-natured 
face, with a long, white beard and was leaning on a 
staff. Philip rubbed his eyes and pinched himself, but 
the little man did not disappear. Instead, he raised 
his hand and beckoned Philip to follow him. 

At first Philip was much inclined to run away. But 
the little man looked so good-natured and seemed so 


THE TAILOR OF THE DWARFS 173 

small and harmless, that he took his knapsack and fol¬ 
lowed the dwarf, for evidently he was a dwarf. They 
went further into the forest, and soon Philip saw that 
the strange light he had noticed came from an open 
fire, flaming between two large rocks. About the fire 
sat five other dwarfs, all of whom looked very sad, and 
beside whom Philip’s guide seated himself, making a 
sign for Philip to do the same. 

The night was cool and the warmth of the fire agree¬ 
able. The tailor’s apprentice stretched himself out 
beside it and rubbed his chilled hands. Yet the silent 
company began to seem a little tiresome to him. He 
already had tried, once or twice, to get one of his little 
neighbors to speak, but when he turned to him with a 
friendly question, the dwarf would gnash his teeth and 
give a furious look. And when Philip did not stop 
chattering and asking questions, the Hurleman who 
had guided him struck the fire a blow with his staff 
that sent glowing coals into Philip’s face and hair and 
gave him several burns. At first Philip came near tap¬ 
ping the dwarf on the head with the knobbed stick he 
carried. Fortunately, however, he remembered some 
stories his nurse had once told him, how in similar 
cases enraged dwarfs had turned an unfortunate man’s 
head hindside fore. So he quieted down and, since he 
could not sleep, took up his knapsack and commenced 
to unpack it. At this all the dwarfs began to peer into 
the open knapsack, while Philip, apparently quite un- 


174 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

concerned, spread out a cloth on which he laid needle, 
shears, thread and twine in the neatest order, and be¬ 
side them his bright irons. The dwarfs moved about 
on the ground and stretched their necks in order to 
see what the youth would do next. 

Thought Philip to himself: “Aha, now you are be¬ 
ginning to open your eyes!” and acted as though he 
had not noticed the dwarfs’ curiosity. Instead, he 
took up an old shirt and skillfully began to sew up a 
great hole in it with his needle. The dwarfs’ looks at 
seeing this became more animated than ever, and they 
tiptoed over to the tailor to watch him work. At the 
same time all six of them sighed deeply, and Philip 
noticed that they looked twice as sad as before. Feel¬ 
ing sorry for them and thinking that now they would 
answer him, he once more began to question them. 
Yet no sooner had he spoken the first word than all 
sat down again, looking furious, and Philip received 
so sound a box on the ear from behind that he fell 
head over heels on the moss. At first he thought that 
Master Caspar had found him and awakened him 
from a deep sleep. But when he looked around he 
saw that it was the branch of a tree which had boxed 
his ear in so strange and meaning a fashion. 

Thoroughly angry, he sat down again, and once 
more began to sew, and with every stitch he took the 
dwarfs came nearer and sighed more pitifully. In his 


THE TAILOR OF THE DWARFS 175 

good-natured way Philip thought to himself: “I won¬ 
der what ails the little chaps?” and when their leader 
stepped up to him, gave him a strange look and passed 
his hand over his back, Philip thought: “Oho, I won¬ 
der whether the dwarfs want me to patch their cloaks 
and breeches?” It seemed as though the dwarf could 
read his thoughts, for a friendly smile crossed his sor¬ 
rowful face. Encouraged, the tailor seized him by the 
neck and laid him across his knee to examine into the 
state of his clothing. And, sure enough, there was a 
great tear in the back of his coat, and when the tailor 
parted the cloth he saw that the tear extended not only 
through the lining and shirt, but into the dwarf’s very 
body itself. This body was of a very special sort. It 
did not consist of flesh and blood, but was like an 
onion, with the difference that its layers, one above the 
other, were formed of some delicate substance like 
rose-leaves. And he remembered that his grandmother 
had once told him that the Hurlemen, like all dwarfs 
and mandrakes, were descendants of the rootmen, who 
in turn were descendants of the onion-folk. 

Now, Philip, once he did get to work, was as skill¬ 
ful and able as any one, so he straightway made up his 
mind to see what he could do about patching up the 
dwarf’s little body, before he sewed up the lining and 
coat. Besides, he was human enough, when he remem¬ 
bered the glowing coals and his box on the ear, to think 


176 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

of taking a deeper stitch than necessary every now and 
then. So he commenced to work on the dwarf with 
his finest needle. 

Full of curiosity the other dwarfs crowded about 
him, and their faces began to clear when they saw that 
the tailor was sewing up the lowest leaves first in the 
most thorough way. “Now,” thought Philip, “it is 
only fair that the little scrabbler answer my questions!” 
And, just as he was threading another needle, he 
opened his mouth and begged the dwarf to tell him 
what he really was. Alas, no sooner had he spoken 
than the needle between his fingers turned red-hot and 
ran an inch deep into his hand of its own account, so 
that he yelled with pain! At the same time he received 
a box on the ear, no less heavy than the first, on the 
other side. What should he do? Philip reached be¬ 
hind him for his stick, but as he did so he noticed that 
the dwarfs suddenly were growing taller and broader 
with every passing second. So he dropped his hand 
with a sigh and commenced to work again. Yet he 
found that all the stitches he had taken had been ripped 
out, and a good half hour went by before he had made 
up what he had lost. At the same time he felt bad to 
think of the evil company into which he had fallen, 
and sadly recalled the workshop in Aachen, Master 
Caspar and lovely Rose. There he could have talked 
all day long, and never would have had his ears boxed 
or a red-hot needle run into his hand. 


THE TAILOR OF THE DWARFS 177 

“Yet,” thought he to himself, “after all, chattering 
while at work must be a bad habit. And if it is pun¬ 
ished so severely only an hour’s distance from Aachen, 
no doubt they will chop my head off in the next city 
if I say an unnecessary word!” For the first time in 
his life he thought seriously of bettering himself. 
Meanwhile his work was coming along nicely, but he 
noticed that whenever he took a deeper stitch than nec¬ 
essary, he felt a corresponding sting in his own hand 
from the needle. 

While he worked, the other Hurlemen gathered dry 
brushwood and kept the fire burning. When Philip 
was done, since he could not use the hot iron to smooth 
out the coat, he took his big shears and beat out the 
seams on the dwarf’s back, though while so doing he 
put more strength into the blows than was necessary. 
Then he took the dwarf by the hand, carefully looked 
him over once more, and saw with pleasure that all 
grief had vanished from his face. So he gave him a 
hearty slap with his bare hand and sent him flying 
over the fire into the soft moss. But the dwarf showed 
not the least bit of anger. Instead he jumped up and 
danced around as though mad with joy for quite a 
time. Then he returned to the tailor, drew a large 
goldpiece from his pocket, and put it into his hand. 
Surprised, Philip examined the coin and saw that it 
was a solid gold ducat, a ducat of the best, whose 
weight and ring guaranteed its value. 


178 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

Meanwhile the night was far advanced, and a cool 
breeze already had announced the coming of dawn, 
when Philip commenced to pack up his tools and took 
up his stick in order to say farewell to the dwarfs. He 
shook hands with all of them, and felt sorry to see that 
the five who had not been mended looked twice as sad 
as before; while only the mended one looked gay and 
happy. Suddenly the latter drew a small golden goblet 
out of his pocket, took a sip from it, and then handed 
it to the tailor. The latter, who had no suspicions, 
drank the sweet liquid it contained to the last drop. 
But what was happening to him? First he felt as 
though he were falling from a mountain height; but 
then, to his astonishment and horror, he felt his body 
gradually shrinking, and in a few moments he was just 
as small as the dwarfs themselves. 

It was a terrible moment for poor Philip! He felt 
so unhappy that at first he was unable to think at all. 
Then tears came to his eyes, for he remembered Rose, 
and that he never could return to her as a Tom Thumb. 
When he gained control of himself, he used the tongue 
which had kept silence so long, and overwhelmed the 
dwarfs with the bitterest reproaches for their ingrati¬ 
tude, while the tears ran down his cheeks. But they 
merely shrugged their shoulders and pointed upward 
as though to say he could be made large again and that 
he must have patience. 

There was nothing else to do: he had to be patient. 


THE TAILOR OF THE DWARFS 179 

So he followed the dwarfs, who went on ahead, beckon¬ 
ing him to follow. How enormous the pines—his eye 
could not reach their tops—now appeared! The low- 
growing juniper bushes, which he had trodden under¬ 
foot the day before, now rose high above his head, and 
the beetles and spiders', awakened by the dawn, and 
busily hurrying about their affairs, seemed huge and 
terrible to him. 

After a short time he came with the Hurlemen to a 
high rock, higher than any he had ever seen, and here 
they stopped before a winding, shell stairway, turned 
to stone like other shells he himself had chopped out of 
the rock, and which now also seemed enormous to him. 
One of the dwarfs took out a golden horn and blew it, 
whereupon the winding stairs slowly turned, disclosing 
an opening, through which the company entered and 
then slowly began to ascend the stairs. 

The unheard of magnificence now revealed to 
Philip’s astonished eyes led him to forget his sorrow 
for a moment. From the stairs they came to a great 
anteroom, formed of the most beautiful, glittering 
stones, and supported by columns of rose-red and pure 
white crystal. Thence they made their way into great 
halls, one more splendidly decorated than the other. In 
all these rooms and passages there was not a soul to 
be seen. Yet it was plain that they had been occupied 
only a few short hours before, because gold and silver 
vessels and goblets stood about in disorder on the 


180 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


tables, and the lights still burned dimly in great chan¬ 
deliers which hung from the ceilings. 

It looked as though great festivals and banquets had 
been celebrated in these chambers, nor had music been 
missing at them, for in one of the great halls the musi¬ 
cians’ gallery was still filled with instruments. The 
dwarfs passed through the beautifully decorated rooms 
sadly and in silence and Philip followed them, full of 
astonishment. By now they had left the festal halls 
behind them, and found themselves before a number 
of winding passages, where the six Hurlemen bade 
each other farewell, each of them disappearing in one 
of the passages in question. One of them beckoned 
Philip to follow him, and both entered a vaulted cor¬ 
ridor, at whose end soft, low music greeted them. It 
sounded like the sweet music the wind makes when 
passing through the strings of an Aiolian harp. In 
this corridor there was one door after another and, 
quite near the end of the passage, the dwarf opened a 
little door, bade Philip enter and locked it after him. 

Philip, whose head was spinning with all the mar¬ 
velous things which had happened to him during the 
day, did not first dare to look around, for fear of seeing 
some new mystery. But when he at last examined his 
little room he found that, though hewn in the rock, it 
was far more daintily and tastefully arranged than his 
bedroom in Master Caspar’s home. The bed itself, 
made of a single large seashell which had turned to 


THE TAILOR OF THE DWARFS 181 


stone, looked strange to him; but as pillows, sheets and 
covers were of the finest material he undressed, said 
his prayer and lay down. 

First he thought sadly of Rose, and how near and 
yet how far away he was from her. Yet the music 
which continued to sound from the passage did not 
encourage sad thoughts. On the contrary, his heavy 
dreams and sighs all turned into gay, merry faces, 
which danced about him, and thus he fell asleep. 

How many hours he might have slept he never knew, 
but after a time he felt something tugging at his sleeve, 
and there stood his guide of the evening before, who 
signed for him to rise and follow him. The poor 
tailor lad rose with a sigh, and followed the dwarf out 
into the passage. There the soft melody of the pre¬ 
ceding night had ceased; instead there sounded a 
gayer, statelier music which seemed to echo from the 
splendid halls through which they had passed. At the 
end of the corridor they were joined by the other five 
Hurlemen and all went off silently through the empty 
and radiantly lit halls. The six dwarfs walked with 
sad, downcast eyes, but Philip could not help but look 
around on all sides. Now and then, as they passed, he 
could see a door open and a dwarf or a dwarfine, mag¬ 
nificently dressed in splendidly embroidered garments, 
step out; but when they saw the melancholy procession 
they at once disappeared again. At last—they had 
reached the great anteroom with the rose-red and pure 


182 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


white crystal columns from another side—one of the 
dwarfs blew his horn, the winding stairway turned, 
and as they slowly descended it, the festival music and 
the loud joy of the dwarfs’ castle grew fainter and 
fainter, until, when they once more stepped out into 
the forest beneath the pine trees, it had altogether 
ceased. 

It was night again, only it seemed to Philip that it 
was decidedly colder than the night before. But the 
dwarfs at once built a fire so that the tailor could warm 
his fingers. Then he noticed that the dwarf who had 
fetched him from bed had carried his knapsack, 
and now laid it down beside him. Then the company 
seated itself about the fire, and said not a word. Philip, 
too, remembering his box on the ear and the red-hot 
needle, was afraid to speak. Soon, however, he grew 
weary of the monotony, and, opening his knapsack and 
taking out needle and thread, he asked the dwarfs in 
sign language whether any of them wished to be 
mended. At once five of them leaped up joyfully and 
crowded about him. He clutched one of them by the 
arm, examined his coat and found he had the same 
kind of a tear in his side that the other had had in his 
back. So he put the little chap in the right position 
and went to work sewing him up. Since his hands 
were now as small as those of the dwarfs themselves, it 
took him longer, and though he was careful not to 
speak and have to do his work over again, dawn was 


THE TAILOR OF THE DWARFS 183 

reddening the sky in the east before he finished his task. 

After the dwarf who now had been patched up had 
leaped about in the grass for a time as merrily as the 
other, he also drew a gold ducat from his pocket and 
gave it to the tailor. Then they returned to the dwarf 
castle just as they had done the day before, climbed the 
winding stairs, walked through the empty halls and 
Philip lay down again to the sound of the harp music 
and fell asleep. 

And the same thing happened to the tailor the third, 
fourth and fifth night. Each time, out in the woods, 
he took one of the Hurlemen and sewed him up, skin, 
lining and coat, in the most careful and conscientious 
way, and received a gold ducat for it. And, since there 
was nothing else for him to do, he resigned himself to 
his sad fate, which seemed to have made him the tailor 
of the dwarfs, nevermore to return to his own people. 
The one thing that seemed strange to him in the nightly 
visits to the pine forest was that winter had come so 
early that year. The third night it was so cold in the 
woods, that, had it not been for the dwarfs’ fire, he 
would have frozen his fingers; and yet he had only left 
Aachen toward the end of August. The fourth night 
he could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the 
branches of the pine trees weighed down with snow 
and sighing sadly in the icy wind; and so it was during 
the fifth and sixth nights when the last dwarf took him 
out to be repaired like the rest. 


184 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

That night he sewed more eagerly in order to keep 
warm, and when midnight came already had com¬ 
pleted his task. When he dismissed the dwarf with a 
gentle slap like the rest he was surprised to see all six 
rise, join hands and dance wildly around him with all 
sorts of merry gestures. Then they stopped and the 
one whom he had first patched up stepped over to him 
and spoke to him for the first time: “For what you 
have done for us,” said he, “receive our sincerest and 
heartiest thanks! Now you shall learn how great a 
favor you have done us. You have seen our splendid 
castle and the magnificent halls from which the merry 
dwarf people always had just departed when we en¬ 
tered, and you can see that we lead a happy and joyous 
life. During the time which you human beings call 
day, when that great star, the sun, well-nigh blinds you 
with his dazzling light, we dwarf people sleep. Not 
until night comes does our castle begin to show signs 
of life, and we do pass happy hours at dance and play. 
Now you must know that we dwarfs are far more irri¬ 
table than human beings. So it happened that one 
night, we six, excited by the dance and games, forgot 
one of our first laws—that of keeping silence at the 
right time—in the castle of a neighboring dwarf king. 
This led first to a quarrel with the other dwarfs, and 
then to bloodshed. You have seen the wounds we have 
received, and only the fact that we live for a thousand 
years saved us from death. When we returned to our 


THE TAILOR OF THE DWARFS 185 

castle our king laid a severe punishment on us. He 
forbade our taking part in the merry feasts and dances 
of our folk, and sent us out into the gloomy forest to 
spend the hours which the other inhabitants of the 
castle pass so joyously. There we were to stay till we 
could find a man who, without our asking him, and 
without speaking a word, would sew up our wounds 
and our garments in the human way. In order to 
make this more difficult, we were only allowed to be¬ 
come visible to the wanderer during the change of the 
moon. You will be surprised and horrified when I 
tell you that we had been waiting in vain over a hun¬ 
dred years before you appeared. So you see, the debt 
of gratitude we owe you is beyond payment 1” 

Philip, who had listened to this speech with the 
greatest astonishment, did not know what to reply. 
Then the dwarf drew the well-known goblet from be¬ 
neath his cloak, and handed it to Philip, who first took 
it doubtfully; but then, full of confidence in the dwarfs, 
emptied it at once. Suddenly he felt a strong desire in 
all his limbs to stretch. He grew from minute to min¬ 
ute in height and breadth, and soon, to his great joy, 
saw that he had regained his former shape and heighth. 

“Take also,” continued the dwarf, “the six golden 
ducats which you earned during the six nights as a re¬ 
ward for the service you rendered us! I know that 
there is nothing human beings value so much as this 
shining metal. Yet do not let a single one of these six 


186 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


gold pieces pass from your possession. Lock them up 
in a chest, and whenever you need money for your ex¬ 
penses you will find it there. And leave them to your 
children and your children’s children, for they pos¬ 
sess a mystic power which attains its greatest strength 
in the course of a few hundred years. Now farewell, 
and remember the golden rule whose neglect on our 
part brought us into trouble, and which you yourself 
do not seem to practice over well: ‘Be silent at the 
right time!’ ” 

With these words he and the five other Hurlemen 
shook hands with the astonished tailor, and immedi¬ 
ately disappeared. Now the first ray of the morning 
sun fell over the hills and on the snow which hung 
from the pine boughs and glistened on the ground. 
And for the first time, happy Philip realized how he 
had suddenly passed from summer to winter in the 
space of six short nights. The dwarfs had only been 
able to show themselves to him from month to month, 
and in the intervals they had surrounded him with a 
magic which allowed him to sleep a month at a time. 

Though it was now February and very cold, Philip 
had no difficulty in making his way down the hills, for 
there were no leaves on the bushes to hide the view. 
He shouted with joy when he saw the majestic towers 
of the Emperor Charlemagne’s cathedral rise before 
him. Soon he had reached the walls of the city, and 


THE TAILOR OF THE DWARFS 187 

hurriedly ran through the streets to Master Caspar’s 
house. 

The latter had often regretted his harshness toward 
Philip, and tears of joy came to his eyes as well as those 
of Rose when Philip rushed into the room. Yet how 
great was his astonishment and satisfaction when Philip 
drew the six full-weight gold ducats from his knapsack 
and spread them out before the master’s eyes while he 
told his wonderful tale. And, after a few days’ test to 
see whether Philip really was a chatterbox reformed, 
Master Caspar allowed him to marry the happy Rose. 
Thenceforth there never was a more industrious and 
painstaking tailor than Philip. If at first he sometimes 
felt inclined to lay down his work to chat, he felt a 
slight itching in his ear as well as a faint stitch in the 
hand, reminders which gradually disappeared. The 
dwarfs kept their promise, and the golden ducats— 
locked up in a special drawer—always supplied any 
money needed for special expenses, and thus remained 
in the possession of the family. 


THE GOLDSMITH’S NIECE AND THE 
FISHERMAN’S FAITHFUL SON 


O NCE upon a time there lived a king and a queen 
who had no children. But just behind the royal 
palace stood a fisherman’s hut, and heaven sent the fish- 
erfolk another child with every passing year. Now the 
poor queen, seeing that the king had begun to dislike 
her, sent down to the fisherman’s hut one day, when a 
new child had arrived, had it given to her, and brought 
it up as her own. After a time God gave her a child, 
too, but she did not turn out the fisherman’s boy on that 
account; he grew up with her own son and they became 
inseparable friends. After a time, when they were 
older, they asked the king’s permission to go out into the 
world to become acquainted with strange peoples and 
countries, and, permission having been granted them, 
they set out. For a long time they wandered until they 
came to a great city near the sea, and, since it pleased 
them, they settled down there, intending to remain for 
a while. 

One day the young gentles of the city gave the two 
strangers a banquet, and at the banquet the talk fell on 
the beauties of the city. After much had been said, one 
way and another, one of the young nobles spoke as fol- 
188 


THE GOLDSMITH’S NIECE 189 

lows: “There is no woman so beautiful as the gold¬ 
smith’s niece, who sits in her window with a golden 
crown on her head, playing with an apple of gold.” 
Not one of those present contradicted him, but all 
agreed that he had told the truth, and the traveling 
prince was seized with such a love for the goldsmith’s 
niece that he could neither eat, nor drink, nor speak. 
It took his friend, the fisherman’s son, some time to dis¬ 
cover the cause of his grief, but when the prince con¬ 
fided in him and said he must die of love for the beauti¬ 
ful unknown, he said he would find a way to help him. 

So the fisherman’s son rented a house not far from that 
of the goldsmith and hired skilled workmen, who dug 
a tunnel which led from his own to the other dwelling. 
The latter was seven stories high, and the goldsmith’s 
niece lived on the seventh story. The doors of the seven 
stories were locked with seven locks, whose seven keys 
the goldsmith—whose shop was in another street—car¬ 
ried about his person. When the tunnel was finished, 
the fisherman’s son climbed up to the goldsmith’s niece 
and found her at her window, her golden crown on her 
head, playing with her golden apple, and looking out 
to sea. When she saw the fisherman’s son she won¬ 
dered how he had found his way to her and asked who 
he might be and what he wanted. Said he: “I am a 
king’s son who has come to your city. Here I heard so 
much about your beauty, your crown and your apple 
that I fell in love with you. Then I had no rest until 


190 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

I dug a tunnel which leads into your house, and in this 
way I have managed to visit you.” 

Then he begged her to lend him her golden apple, 
since he wished to have another just like it made, to 
take back to his own kingdom. But she said that she 
was afraid of her uncle, for if he found it out she 
would have to suffer. But the fisherman’s son answered 
that he only needed the apple for a short time, and 
would return it by way of his tunnel long before the 
goldsmith could unlock his seven locks. In short he 
begged and pleaded until she gave him the apple. 

Back went the fisherman’s son to the goldsmith in 
his workshop and said to him: “Be kind enough to 
make me another apple just like this one!” The gold¬ 
smith looked at the apple from every side, and the longer 
he looked at it the more convinced he was that it was 
his own apple. So he said to the fisherman’s son: “That 
is my own apple, which I made myself!” “Folderol!” 
replied the latter, “do you think you are the only gold¬ 
smith in the world?” But the goldsmith rose, and took 
his seven keys to see for himself whether or no his 
niece still had her apple. Before he could unlock the 
seven locks on the seven doors, however, the fisher¬ 
man’s son had slipped up through his tunnel, and had 
brought back her apple to the goldsmith’s niece. And 
when the goldsmith came in and saw his niece playing 
with the apple, she asked him how he happened to 
come home at so unusual an hour. “What shall I say, 


THE GOLDSMITH’S NIECE 


191 

my child,” answered he. “A stranger came to my shop 
and gave me an apple for a model that looked so 
much like yours that I had to see whether you still had 
it.” But his niece said: “Why, uncle, what an idea! 
Why should not someone else have a similar apple?” 
Back went the goldsmith to his shop, but before he had 
opened and locked the seven doors the fisherman’s son 
had arrived before him, the apple in his hand. So the 
goldsmith took his order, and his customer told him 
to have the apple ready as soon as possible, since he 
was leaving in a few days. 

When the apple had been completed the fisherman’s 
son went back to the goldsmith’s niece, and begged her 
to lend him her crown, as he wished to have one just like 
it made to take back to his own kingdom with him. At 
first she demurred, as she had done before, but finally 
she gave in. Then the fisherman’s son went to the gold¬ 
smith’s shop and begged the goldsmith to make him a 
crown like the one he held in his hand. The gold¬ 
smith looked at the crown from all sides and decided 
that it was the very crown that he had made for his 
niece. But when he told the fisherman’s son, the 
latter laughed at him, so he again took up his seven 
keys and went home to see for himself. But before he 
had unlocked the seven doors the fisherman’s son had 
brought back the crown to the girl and hidden himself. 
And when the goldsmith arrived and saw the crown 
on his niece’s head, he was much surprised and said to 


192 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

her: “I hardly know what to make of it! The stranger 
who ordered the apple from me has just brought me a 
crown so like your own that I thought it could be none 
other.” But his niece answered: “Why, uncle, what an 
idea! Do you not keep me under seven locks? How 
could any one come here and steal my crown?” Off 
went the goldsmith to his workshop but when he got 
there, there stood the fisherman’s son with the crown in 
his hand. After they had agreed on the price, the 
fisherman’s son said: “It must be ready to-morrow, be¬ 
cause I am leaving town then!” 

Then he brought back her crown to the goldsmith’s 
niece and told her a great tale of his love and that he 
would like to take her back to his own kingdom and 
make her his queen. “But,” said the goldsmith’s niece, 
“my uncle never would give his consent.” “Leave 
that to me,” said the fisherman’s son. “I will marry 
you before we sail, and your own uncle shall give you 
away!” 

The next day the fisherman’s son went to the gold¬ 
smith, got his crown and said: “My friend is marrying 
an orphan girl of this town to-morrow evening. Will 
you do me the honor of giving away the bride, since 
we know no one else here?” And the goldsmith said: 
“Why not?” That evening he went home and told his 
niece he had promised to give away the bride at the 
wedding of the stranger’s friend, but that he did not 
feel like going. “What,” said his niece, “a good cus- 


THE GOLDSMITH’S NIECE 


193 


tomer does you the honor of asking you to be a best 
man, and you wish to refuse?” And she kept at him 
until he went. 

In the morning, that same day, the fisherman’s son 
had led his friend, the prince, through the tunnel to the 
goldsmith’s niece, and said to her: “This is your true 
love and the man you are to marry, for he cannot live 
without you!” The prince did not find it hard to con¬ 
vince the goldsmith’s niece of his love, and it was 
agreed that the prince should bring her down to his 
ship off the seashore that evening for the wedding. 

So when it was dark he brought the goldsmith’s niece 
to the ship, and the fisherman’s son sent for the gold¬ 
smith to give the bride away. But the moment the 
latter saw the brfde, he thought to himself: “Why, that 
is my own niece!” He excused himself, saying he had 
forgotten something, and would be right back. Yet 
before he had unlocked his seven locks, his niece had 
slipped back through the tunnel, and when he came in, 
there she sat with her golden crown on her head, play¬ 
ing with her golden apple. “Is the wedding already 
over?” she asked. So the goldsmith told her what had 
happened and how he had come back to make sure she 
was not the bride. “You must hurry back at once, 
uncle, or they will laugh at you!” she said, and back he 
went. But when he reached the ship there she was sit¬ 
ting in the bride’s place. Again he said to himself: 
“That is my own niece!” and hurried off. And again 


i 9 4 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

he found his niece at home, playing with her golden 
apple. And so it happened the third time. Then he 
said to himself: “I am foolish! Are there not plenty 
of people who look like each other?” So he made no 
further difficulties, but gave away the bride, and as 
soon as the wedding was over the sails were hoisted 
and the ship put out to sea. 

When the goldsmith reached home, however, he 
found an empty nest. He looked everywhere, but all 
in vain; his niece had disappeared. So he said to his 
eyes: “Hark ye, eyes, of what use are you to me when 
you do not wish to see and my mind cannot see!” He 
took them out and flung them into the air. There 
they changed to birds, flew to the ship on which his 
niece was sailing and perched on the mast. “This young 
woman soon will be a widow!” said one. “How so?” 
asked the other. “When her husband, the prince, lands 
in his own kingdom they will celebrate by firing can¬ 
non, and one of the cannonballs will strike and kill 
him. Yet, if he has a brother who loves him with all 
his heart, nothing will happen to him. But whoever 
hears my words and repeats them will turn to stone 
from his knees down! 

“When they are about to enter the city, horses will 
be brought them to ride, and the prince will mount 
one that will fling him off and kill him and make his 
bride a widow. Yet if he has a brother who loves him 
with all his heart, nothing will happen to him. But if 


THE GOLDSMITH’S NIECE 


195 

any one who hears these words repeats them, he will 
turn to stone from his middle down! 

“And when they come to the castle, a dog will run 
out and bite the prince and he will die, and the bride 
become a widow. Yet if he has a brother who loves 
him with all his heart, nothing will happen to him. 
But if any one hears my words and repeats them, he 
will turn to stone from his neck down! 

“Finally, when they go to their room, a monster will 
come and devour the prince and his bride will become 
a widow. Yet if he has a brother who loves him with 
all his heart nothing will happen to him. But who¬ 
ever hears my words and repeats them, his head will 
be turned to stone as well!” 

The fisherman’s son had heard all that the birds had 
said, but he did not repeat a word of it. When they 
landed in the prince’s kingdom, he at once sent mes¬ 
sengers to the city forbidding them to shoot off the can¬ 
non as a sign of rejoicing. When they found the horses 
waiting to take them to town, he sent them back. 
“What a jealous fellow this fisherman’s son is,” thought 
the young bride. When they came to the castle door 
a dog rushed out to welcome them. But the fisher¬ 
man’s son drew his sword and killed it, which made 
the bride still more angry. But when they were safely 
in the castle, the fisherman’s son had the cannon fired. 

When the young prince and his bride went to their 
apartment the fisherman’s son followed them and stood 


196 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

on guard with drawn sword. At midnight a horrible 
monster came down from the ceiling and was about to 
devour the prince when the fisherman’s son killed it. 

In the morning the prince and his bride went walk¬ 
ing in the castle gardens, and while they were away 
the old queen came in. When she saw the floor cov¬ 
ered with blood, she thought her son had been mur¬ 
dered. “None other than that envious fisherman’s son 
has killed him!” she cried. “That is why he forbade 
us firing the cannon, and sent back the horses, and slew 
the dog at the castle gate!” 

And when the fisherman’s son heard her say that he 
was angry and said: “So that is my reward! Because 
I have saved your son from death again and again you 
abuse me!” So he began and told the first thing he 
had heard the birds say—and turned to stone from his 
knees down. And he told the second—and turned to 
stone from his waist down; and told the third, and 
fourth, and turned completely to stone. 

Then the queen, who had looked around the room 
and found the slain dragon, felt sorry, but it was too 
late. She had the stone fisherman’s son raised and 
placed in a room and there he stood, deaf and dumb. 
When those whom he knew came into the room it was 
plain to see that he recognized them, but he could not 
move a limb nor speak. 

The young prince and his bride, however, felt so 
sorry for their faithful friend, that they never smiled 


THE GOLDSMITH’S NIECE 


197 


for three years, and by that time the tears they had 
shed for him filled a great bowl. Then, however, 
they had their reward. They took the bowl of tears, 
the tears of their sorrow and affection, and poured it 
out over the stone fisherman’s son. The evil spell was 
broken, he became a living human being again, and all 
dwelt together in peace and happiness to the end of 
their days. 


ONE THAT IS DEAD KILLS TWO, AND 
TWO THAT ARE DEAD KILL FORTY 


I N very ancient times there once lived in a mountain 
country a rich and beautiful princess, who was 
skilled in the asking and answering of riddles. Now, 
because of her beauty and her wealth, many princes 
tried to win her hand, yet she found none among them 
to her liking. And when she saw that her suitors kept 
on increasing in number, she had it proclaimed every¬ 
where that she would only marry a man who could out¬ 
do her in the asking and solving of riddles. But she 
made it a condition that the prince whose riddle she 
could solve, or who could not find an answer to the 
riddle she gave him, should be hanged. Whoever over¬ 
came her at this game, him she would marry. Many 
a prince came to try his fortune, yet none could solve 
her riddle, and so they all perished by the rope. 

Now it happened that far distant from the city in 
which stood the princess’s palace, there ruled a king 
who had an only son, named Salmon. And since he 
was alone, his parents gave him a comrade to play 
with, a boy named Luis, who was of an age with the 
young prince. Both were brought up in strict seclu¬ 
sion, for the old king did not want his son to hear any- 
198 


ONE THAT IS DEAD KILLS TWO 


199 


thing of the beautiful princess and the strange condi¬ 
tions she made her suitors, lest he be tempted to try 
his luck. And since the boys kept to the palace and 
the palace grounds, they thought the whole world was 
no larger than the kingdom in which they lived. 

Sometimes they would gaze out into the far, blue 
distance, and when they saw smoke rise on the air, 
they would look at it with astonishment, until grad¬ 
ually they began to long to cross those distant hills and 
see what there might be on the other side. Yet they 
were too far away for them to make the journey afoot, 
and they could obtain no horse, because the old king 
carefully kept his horses under lock and key. Now 
one day the king sent Luis, who enjoyed greater liberty 
than Salmon, and who happened to be going to the 
rice fields, into the forest to bring him his horse, and 
Luis obeyed. But when he brought back the horse, 
the king already had gone into the palace. So Salmon 
and Luis thought they would improve the opportunity 
to ride across the mountains on the king’s horse. But 
as they were about to set out Salmon’s mother appeared 
and said: “Where are you going?” “We want to see 
what there is on the other side of the mountains,” said 
her son. 

His mother did not want him to go, but no matter 
how much she wept, scolded, begged and entreated, 
she could not move him. “You and father have held 
us cooped up long enough,” said Salmon. “Now we 


200 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


can stand it no longer, and must go!” Then the un¬ 
happy mother thought: “It were better if my son were 
to die swiftly and painlessly this very minute, rather 
than have to hang in the land of the beautiful princess!” 
And, to save Salmon and Luis from the rope she feared 
would be their portion, she tried to scatter a swiftly- 
working and painless poison on them. But the two 
boys already had mounted the horse and were riding 
away, and the poison merely fell on the horse’s hind¬ 
quarters. Yet there it did its work. When they 
stopped to rest for the first time the horse died! 

Soon the horse’s corpse attracted two black crows. 
They at once began to feed on it but as soon as they 
had eaten fell down dead themselves. Salmon and 
Luis took up the dead birds, cut them in half, smoked 
them over the fire, and wrapped them up in leaves. 
Then they continued their journey, crossed the last 
mountain-ridge, and, descending into the valley-land, 
found some huts where they were kindly received. 

But intelligent Luis was not pleased with the ap¬ 
pearance of the people. Said he to Salmon: “These! 
people look as though they might rob and even slap 
us while we sleep. So we must be on our guard and 
take turns watching and sleeping.” The young prince, 
however, was not a good watchman; he could not help 
falling asleep, and while both slept all their belong¬ 
ings were stolen, including the two smoked crows, 
which the thieves ate up. Yet since the crows were 


ONE THAT IS DEAD KILLS TWO 201 


poisoned, the thieves who lay down to rest after eating 
them never woke to tell the tale. 

The following day Salmon and Luis journeyed on 
until they came to the city of the wise princess, where 
they were hospitably entertained. The very first eve¬ 
ning of their arrival the princess wanted them to ask 
and answer riddles. The prince began to make ex¬ 
cuses, for he could think of no riddle to ask, but Luis 
whispered in his ear to beg the princess to allow them 
to retire for a moment to another room. When they 
were alone Luis said to Salmon: “You must first give 
the princess a riddle to solve. So say to her: ‘One that 
is dead kills two, and two that are dead kill forty. What 
is the answer?’ But be careful not to give her the 
least little clue, or she will at once solve your rid¬ 
dle.” 

Then they returned to the princess’s chamber, where 
the prince begged permission to give the first riddle 
and the princess granted his request. So he said: 
“One that is dead kills two, and two that are dead kill 
forty. What is the answer?” 

Then the princess thought and thought and thought, 
but she could not solve the riddle and had to ask that 
they give her more time in which to think it over. 

Now Luis knew very well what the princess had in 
mind, and said to his master: “To-night the princess 
will send some one to spy on us and listen to what we 
say. Stay awake, and as soon as you hear me cough, 


202 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


come out as though in a rage, and ask what all the noise 
is?” What Luis expected came to pass. 

No sooner did the princess think that the prince was 
asleep than she sent the wife of one of the king’s cap¬ 
tains to knock softly at the door of his room. When 
Luis opened it, she offered him a bag of coin if he 
would tell her the answer to the riddle. 

“Ah,” said Luis, “I have no need of money, for my 
master is very rich!” 

“Well,” said the captain’s wife, “say what you wish 
and it shall be given you!” Then she pleaded with 
him to tell her what she wanted to know. But while 
she was pleading Luis began to cough, and Salmon 
stepped into the room. Filled with shame and fright, 
the woman fled, and left behind her the bag of money 
she had brought and her mantle, which Luis had 
seized. This happened four nights in succession, and 
each time another captain’s wife knocked at the door. 

On the evening of the fifth day Luis said to the 
prince: “To-night the princess herself will come to 
you. So you must sleep in the outer chamber in my 
stead.” And, sure enough, the princess came. But 
she, too, had to flee when Luis stepped out of the inner 
room, leaving the money and her mantle. Yet she had 
managed to worm out of the prince that he had ridden 
away from home with his servant on horseback. And 
that was all the wise princess needed to know in order 
to solve the riddle. 


ONE THAT IS DEAD KILLS TWO 203 

The following morning, when the prince came to 
her, she said: “A poisoned horse kills two crows, and 
two poisoned crows kill forty people. That is the an¬ 
swer to your riddle!” And so the prince had for¬ 
feited his life and had to agree to be hanged. 

Yet when he stood beneath the gallows, he begged 
to be allowed to give his servant his last greetings and 
good wishes for his parents, to carry back to them, and 
his wish was granted. But when Luis appeared, the 
prince said to him: “We caught a doe with one cop¬ 
per and one silver horn. Luis, show the horns!” And 
the servant showed the first two mantles and bags of 
money. “And then,” Salmon went on, “we caught an¬ 
other doe with one silver and one gold horn. Luis, 
show the horns!” And then Luis showed the two other 
mantles and bags of money. When he did so the wives 
of the four captains fled, filled with shame, for their 
husbands were present and had recognized the mantles. 
Then Salmon spoke once more: “We also caught a 
female tiger, with one gold and one diamond horn. 
Luis, show the horns!” But when he said this the 
princess cried: “Never mind showing them! I see 
that you are the husband Heaven means me to have!” 
So Prince Salmon stepped happily out from beneath 
the gallows, and married the wise, rich and beautiful 
princess, with whom he lived happily ever after. 


THE GARDEN OF PARADISE 


O NCE upon a time a beggarman came into a vil¬ 
lage. He sat in a two-wheeled cart drawn by an 
ancient horse, and stopped at every house in the place 
to ask for a night’s lodging. But the villagers were 
all rich and prosperous, and their stables were so full 
of fat cattle that there was not an empty stall left for 
his horse. 

Now as the poor beggar was standing looking 
around, while the cold wind blew and the first snow¬ 
flakes were falling from the skies, a poor man on his 
way home from the fields asked him why he stood there 
and shivered: “There is no one in the place who can 
take my horse and myself in for the night,” said the 
beggar, “their stables are full.” “Well, come along 
with me,” answered the poor man, “I have but a few 
cows. My stable is not large, it is true. But come 
along, nevertheless, and we will manage one way or 
another.” 

So he led the beggar’s horse into his stable, put it 
beside his own mule, and poured out feed for them into 
the same crib. And in his cottage he set before the 
beggar the best that he had. Then he made up a bed 
of straw for him beside the stove, and gave him the 

204 


THE GARDEN OF PARADISE 205 

warm blanket he used to cover his mule when the beast 
was out in the snow. 

The next morning the beggar, with straw still stick¬ 
ing in his hair, rose at an early hour and took leave of 
his host. And as he held the poor man’s hand firmly in 
his own, he said: “Brother, some day you must come 
and visit me and be my guest!” “Gladly,” said the 
poor man, “but how would I find your house?” “That 
is easy,” answered the beggarman, “just follow the 
track of my cart.” The poor man sighed. “I have a 
great deal of work to do and no one to help me do it. 
But some day I will visit you, when I have a little time 
on my hands.” 

So the beggar went his way and the poor man stepped 
into his stable with a broom to sweep it out. As he 
went in he saw something shining on the stable floor, 
and bending down picked up four silver horseshoes. 
Then he fell into deep thought, and said to himself: 
“What sort of a beggar is this who shoes his old nag 
with silver horseshoes? I shall have to bring them back 
to him!” And when he went into the courtyard where 
the beggar’s cart had stood under the shed, he found 
two golden screws lying there on the ground. He 
shook his head and said: “No, I cannot imagine such a 
beggar! He must have been a prince in disguise, or 
perhaps the king himself!” So he put away the screws 
with the horseshoes, hiding them both in the furthest 
corner of his closet. 


206 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


Then he went to work. And as he went along he 
saw the traces of the beggar’s cartwheels in the grass. 
They had a strange gleam, and when he bent to look 
at them and felt them, they were silver. He followed 
them a little ways, and they were silver so far as his 
eye would reach. “A strange, strange beggar!” mur¬ 
mured the poor man, and was so mystified that he nearly 
took the wrong path to his field. 

Yet the time never seemed to come when he could 
leave home and visit the strange beggarman. He had 
small children, for whom he had to work and whom 
he had to take care of, because his wife fell sick. There 
were rents and taxes to pay. Bad weather killed his 
crops. His stable caught fire and burned down. His 
cattle died, and his mule became too old and weak to 
work and he had to earn money to buy another. From 
time to time he looked in his closet to see whether the 
silver horseshoes and the golden screws were still there. 
And, finally, he forgot all about them. 

Then, after many years, when his hair had grown 
white and his wife had died, and his children were 
able to fend for themselves, though he himself was as 
poor as ever he had been, he was sitting before his 
cottage door one day, thinking over all that had hap¬ 
pened to him during his long life of toil. And his 
thoughts once more turned to the beggar. He stood 
up, went out into the field, and looked for the cart 
tracks. And lo and behold, there they were in the 


THE GARDEN OF PARADISE 207 

grass, gleaming as brightly as on the first day he had 
seen them! So he made up his mind to follow the 
tracks and visit the beggar, took the silver horseshoes 
and the golden screws out of the closet, harnessed his 
mule to his cart and drove off. 

On and on he drove, following the silver cart tracks. 
And since they shone even more brightly at night than 
in the daytime, he drove on through the night as well. 
Over hills and through valleys he went, past many, 
many houses, past churches, past evil people who called 
out abuse after him, and good people who gave his 
mule water to drink. At last he saw a river in the dis¬ 
tance, spanned by a wooden bridge, and when he 
crossed it, it seemed so airy and delicate that he thought 
that it had been brought from some foreign land. 
Soon after he came to another bridge, of iron, that 
vaulted high up into the skies. Never had he seen such 
a bridge before, thought he, as he drove across. 

And after he had again passed through new forests 
and unknown valleys, and across many mountains on 
whose slopes the fruit on the trees was showing red, 
though at home, in his village, spring had only begun, 
he came to a third bridge. It gleamed and glistened 
so radiantly that he could hardly look at it, and when he 
drew nearer he saw that it was built of silver, and as 
beautiful as a dream. Then, as though this were not 
enough, he came almost at once to still another bridge, 
of pure gold, which shone like the very sun. When he 


208 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


caught sight of it he had to press his hat down over his 
forehead and the tears came to his eyes. “How strange 
all this is!” thought the poor man. Yet at the same 
time he felt so light that it seemed as though he could 
fly instead of creaking along in the cart his mule 
dragged so slowly. 

At last he came to a wall which stretched so far into 
the distance that he could not see its end. It was built 
of white, red, blue and green marble, and the great 
gate was covered over and over with precious stones. 
It glittered as though it were afire. The poor man 
would not even have dared to dream of such splendor. 
Even the mule turned its eyes away from its light. 

The tracks of the silver cartwheels ran right through 
the middle of the road to the gate. And the poor man, 
in spite of his increasing astonishment, could not help 
but feel that he had reached the end of his journey. 
So he climbed down from his cart, turned his mule 
loose to crop the grass, put the silver horseshoes and 
the golden screws in his knapsack and went to the gate. 
It was shut. But he took heart, turned the golden 
doorknob and opened the door. 

Had he possessed a hundred pair of eyes he never 
could have seen all that there was to see on the other 
side of the gate! It was a garden without end. There 
were fruit trees, some in bloom, some laden with fruit, 
some blossoming and fruiting at the same time. There 
were groves, meadows, hillocks, and brooks which 


THE GARDEN OF PARADISE 


209 


foamed along whitely through the grass. In the trees 
sang birds whose feathers showed all sorts of wonder¬ 
ful colors the poor man never before had seen. He 
forgot hunger and thirst listening to their song. 

There he stood amid all this loveliness and did not 
know whether he were dreaming or waking, whether 
he were dead or alive. He looked about him on all 
sides, took a deep breath and went on, always follow¬ 
ing the tracks of the silver cartwheels. The flowery 
meadows and orchards of fruit trees were without end, 
the song of the birds never ceased. He felt neither 
hunger, thirst nor weariness, and tears of joy filled his 
eyes. Now here, now there, he stopped and listened, 
and then went on. His breath grew lighter and freer 
and the air of the garden streamed through his veins 
like a golden wine when the beggar suddenly stepped 
up to him beneath the blossoming trees. 

“May God be with you, friend!” cried the poor 
man, filled with joy. “And with you,” answered the 
beggar, as he took him by the hand. “I am happy to 
have found you,” said the poor man. “And now tell 
me what all this means. First, however, take back your 
horseshoes and your screws, which you lost that time 
you stayed with me.” The beggar took them and cast 
them aside in the grass as he walked on through the 
garden with the poor man. “How shall I ever be able 
to tell about all I have seen at home?” said the poor 
man, “I could not do so even though they killed me. 


2io WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


But now let me look to my mule, which is grazing be¬ 
fore the gate, and give the beast a drink. Then, if you 
will allow me, I shall return and, though I must not 
detain you, stay for a while in your garden and glad¬ 
den my eyes with its beauty!” The beggar said noth¬ 
ing, but gave him a kindly smile and a curious look as 
he walked back to the gate with him. 

There the poor man bade him farewell. But the 
beggar held his hand in his own for a long time, and 
said: “I shall expect you this evening!” Then the poor 
man looked about everywhere, but could not find his 
mule. Still searching for it he crossed the golden 
bridge and then the bridges of silver, iron and wood: 
in vain, the mule was nowhere to be found. And then, 
since he was so far underway, he took the road home 
again, always following the tracks of the silver cart¬ 
wheels, until he reached his native village. 

But when he got there, he no longer recognized 
houses or trees, dogs or men. He inquired after his 
little cottage, after his children; but the people whom 
he asked looked at him strangely, and no one could 
give him any information. 

So he sat himself down by the village well, which 
was still the same, drank from it with his hand, and 
closed his eyes for a little. “To-morrow I will return 
to the beggar,” thought he, “and ask him what troubles 
me. He will tell me whether I am awake or dream¬ 
ing.” And as he slept, it seemed to him that people 


THE GARDEN OF PARADISE 


211 


came and closed his eyes, as they do those of the dead. 
Yet that selfsame moment he found himself back in 
the lovely garden again. And, lo, there the beggar 
came once more to greet him and take him by the 
hand! And so he remained for all time with the beg¬ 
gar in the garden of Paradise. 


THE PARASOL OF CONTENTMENT 


O NCE upon a time there lived a man named Yang- 
Tsu. He was a street peddler and for that rea¬ 
son he wandered up and down the streets all day long 
with the tray which contained his wares hanging from 
his neck in front of him. As he cried his wares his 
eyes took in all the wonders of the rich and splendid 
city. He saw the silk-robed mandarins with their 
great escorts. He saw the mighty warriors with the 
shadows of distant adventures darkening their features. 
And from gold-embroidered, curtained litters the al¬ 
mond fragrance of invisible beauties was wafted to his 
perspiring face. 

All this filled his soul with discontent and envy and 
longing, and when he came home in the evening he 
always would quarrel with Yu-Nu, his wife, for he 
was restless and excited. And then there would be 
weeping and wailing half the night long. 

One morning when Yu-Nu had again awakened and, 
looking in her mirror, had seen the little red veins in 
her eyes, she said to Yang-Tsu: 

“Go and buy a parasol!” 

“Why should I buy a parasol?’’ asked her husband. 
“Because it is all due to the heat of the sun. The 


212 


THE PARASOL OF CONTENTMENT 213 

powerful sunrays excite you, so that you cannot help 
quarreling. Therefore we live unhappily and there 
are red veins in my eyes.” 

Yang-Tsu went about his daily work without mak¬ 
ing a reply, for he was not a bad man, and he thought 
over what his wife had said. He noticed as he went 
along the street that the sun shone with such power 
that the sunrays rose straight up from the pavement, 
like a glowing golden trellis. “Perhaps she is right,” 
thought Yang-Tsu, and he turned his steps toward the 
artisan’s quarter. 

In this quarter there was much noise and shouting, 
for each merchant sat in front of his shop on a mat, 
and praised the goods he offered for sale. Suddenly 
Yang-Tsu heard a shrill voice rise above the others, 
which cried: 

“Buy parasols! An infinite choice! Every one can 
spread the sky he loves best above his head!” 

Yang-Tsu was much surprised to hear these strange 
words, and went over to the parasol-maker. The lat¬ 
ter was a large, serious man. He sat on the cobble¬ 
stones and round about him lay his parasols. 

“What is it you keep calling out, most respected 
maker of parasols?” Yang-Tsu asked him. “Did you 
say these parasols could spread a heaven above my 
head? I admit that they are handsome, yet I cannot 
notice that they are different from any others I have 


seen. 3 


214 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

The parasol-maker replied with a serious smile: 
“These parasols only look alike from the outside, most 
respected questioner; please deign to open one of 
them.” 

Yang-Tsu raised a parasol from the ground and 
opened it, and was greatly surprised. For the inner 
side of the parasol had been painted in such wise that it 
pictured a summer sky filled with the most tender, 
curly little white clouds, and the painting had been so 
artfully done that it seemed as though one were walk¬ 
ing beneath them. 

“You see, most respected questioner,” said the para¬ 
sol-maker, “as long as you carry this parasol, the 
radiant summer skies above your head will never 
darken, and beneath their influence your soul always 
will be cheerful.” 

Yang-Tsu was overjoyed to hear this, yet he cau¬ 
tiously said: 

“It is true that I need to buy a parasol, for I quarrel 
every night with my wife Yu-Nu. But that is due to 
the heat of the sun. Therefore I do not think that a 
warm summer sky above my head will tend to quiet 
me.” 

“Then choose some other sky,” answered the parasol- 
maker. “I have the largest selection of skies in the 
city.” 

He opened a second parasol. It showed a dull, 



‘Across it, wild geese flew in the shape of a long wedge’ 












THE PARASOL OF CONTENTMENT 215 

misty, winter sky, like shimmering gray silk. The 
smoke of distant villages rose on the horizon. 

“That is the sky of tender melancholy,” said the 
parasol-maker. “In this melancholy you can live your 
life long as peacefully as though you were wrapped in 
the softest wool.” 

But Yang-Tsu thought this sky too mournful, and 
opened a third and then a fourth parasol, and others 
beside. 

There was a morning sky before sunrise, in which all 
the day’s happenings still glowed in purity before sink¬ 
ing down to the dusty earth. There was one which 
showed the blue through a wilderness of upright 
grasses, as though one were lying on one’s back in a 
meadow, looking dreamily up toward the heavens. 
Under this parasol it was possible to carry along with 
one the deep peace of solitude through the noisiest 
streets. There was another parasol with a nocturnal 
sky, lighted by a full moon, and from that sky all the 
songs of lovers hung like clusters of grapes. There 
also was a parasol with a glassy sky above snow-cov¬ 
ered mountain peaks, where no sign of life disturbed 
the repose of the soul. 

Yang-Tsu chose the nocturnal sky with the full moon, 
and went his way. But the parasol did not bring peace 
to his home. The songs of the lovers dripped down 
from the moon into his soul, and their passion kept him 


216 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


as restless as before. On the third day Yang-Tsu 
brought back the parasol with the nocturnal sky, and 
exchanged it for one of quiet meadow solitude. Yet 
neither did this one help him. Too often he forgot to 
attend to his work, and when his wife spoke to him he 
merely started up as though from a dream, sorrowfully. 
This parasol Yang-Tsu also brought back on the third 
day. So he kept on exchanging one parasol for an¬ 
other until in the end he had tried them all. 

Then the parasol-maker said to Yang-Tsu: “Now 
that you have tried each and every sky, and none has 
brought rest to your soul, so that you can live at peace 
with your wife, I have a single parasol left. Perhaps 
fate wills that it be of use to you!” 

The parasol-maker pressed his hands against his 
knees and rose panting, for he was a very fat man. He 
went into his workroom and came back with a parasol 
which seemed far less handsome than the others. Yang- 
Tsu opened it and saw a lovely gray autumn evening 
sky, with a rosy horizon. Across it wild geese flew in 
the shape of a long wedge. A painful longing took 
possession of the heart when the eye followed the flight 
of these wild geese. It was a longing for unknown, 
unattainable distances. And Yang-Tsu took the para¬ 
sol along, because he no longer had a choice. 

With the autumnal evening sky above his head and 
the vague and distant, uncertain longing in his heart, 
he then wandered through the streets of the city and 


THE PARASOL OF CONTENTMENT 217 

saw the splendor of the wealthy, the glittering man¬ 
darins, the mighty warriors and the gold-embroidered 
litters. But none of these things now had power to ex¬ 
cite his soul, for his glance followed the flying geese 
into unknown distances. And when he returned home 
in the evening to his wife, though his mood was slightly 
melancholy, yet he spoke to her in a quiet and friendly 
manner. 

From that day on Yang-Tsu lived in peace and con¬ 
tentment with his wife Yu-Nu. It is true that, like 
every other human being, her heart was also at times 
filled with a painful restlessness which seemed too 
great for her little home to contain. Then she would 
open the parasol, and her eyes would follow the wan¬ 
dering wild geese in their flight. And her restlessness 
would fly far away with them in longing, as the smoke 
flies out of the chimney and no longer poisons the air 
of the room. Soon Yu-Nu found no red veins in her 
eyes, for, like her husband, she had found in the para¬ 
sol-maker’s last parasol a sky which brought peace 
and contentment. 


M’HEMD LASCHEISCHI’S FLUTE 


O NCE upon a time there was a father who had 
three sons. The oldest and the second were in¬ 
dustrious boys who went out into the fields every morn¬ 
ing and worked there until the sun went down. But 
M’hemd, that was the name of the third, was so lazy 
a fellow that he never went along with them. Instead, 
he idled away his time at home, doing nothing all day 
long. 

One day his two hard-working brothers felt so angry 
at M’hemd’s laziness that they went to their father and 
said: “Either M’hemd, the youngest among us, shall 
work with us every day or we will put him out of the 
house!” That frightened their father, and when the 
two older sons had gone out to the fields he told 
M’hemd what his brothers had said. “Very well, 
father,” he answered, “I shall try to work as they do.” 

So the next day the youngest brother went out into 
the fields and tried to work like his elders. But when 
a few hours had passed, M’hemd flung himself down 
on the grass and wept. His brothers said: “Do not 
howl, work!” But M’hemd leaped up and ran home, 
sought out his father and told him: “Dear father, I 
have tried, but I cannot work as my brothers do! I 
218 


M’HEMD LASCHEISCHI’S FLUTE 219 

feel that I soon would die if I kept on. I do not know 
why this is, but it is so. Therefore, instead of staying 
here to trouble you, I will wander out into the wide 
world. Farewell, dear father!” His father could not 
get him to change his mind, and when he begged him 
at least to take some money with him, M’hemd said: 
“I thank you. Yet thus far I have earned no money, 
and I would not like to rob my brothers.” 

So M’hemd Lascheischi went away. That same 
morning, as he wandered, he came to another place, 
and there met two young fellows like himself who were 
going in the same direction. Said they to him: “We 
are not headed for any place in particular. If you are 
agreeable, we will wander on together.” And M’hemd 
answered: “Nor am I going to any particular place. I 
shall be glad to keep you company.” 

When it was time to eat, they sat down on the ground. 
The two strange youths said: “We are going to eat 
now,” but M’hemd answered: “Eat and may you enjoy 
good appetite!” But he himself sat down a little 
apart from them, took from his pocket a bit of aro¬ 
matic tree gum and commenced to chew it. Then the 
other two said, one to the other: “M’hemd does not 
seem to have anything to eat! We will divide our food 
with him.” And they called him over and gave him 
half of what they had. Then they started off once more. 

After a time the three came to a river over which a 
man was ferrying people in a boat. The two strange 


220 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


youths drew some small coins from their pockets and 
sat down in the boat to be ferried across, saying to 
M’hemd: “Are you not going further with us?” “In¬ 
deed I am,” answered M’hemd Lascheischi, “we will 
meet on the other side of the river, for I shall swim 
across.” Then the two youths said one to the other: 
“M’hemd does not seem to have any money either! 
We will divide what we have with him.” They told 
the ferryman to wait, paid the toll for M’hemd, he 
climbed into the boat and all three were taken across 
to the opposite shore. 

There they wandered on for quite a time. Then 
the two strange youths came to a certain town and said: 
“Here we will go to work!” But M’hemd Lascheischi 
answered sadly: “Farewell, I must go on alone, for I 
am unable to work in the fields!” The two strange 
youths would not have it so. “Stay with us, even 
though you cannot work in the fields,” they said. “We 
two are able to earn enough for all of us, and you can 
stay at home, cook our meals and keep the house in 
order.” Said M’hemd Lascheischi: “That I will be 
glad to do, only I am afraid I shall eat more than you 
can earn. Still there is no harm in trying it!” 

So every day the two strange youths went to work 
and earned good wages. And M’hemd stayed at home, 
cooked, tended to the house and chewed his aromatic 
tree gum when he was not busy. Yet he alone used up 
more money than both of his companions, though the 


M’HEMD LASCHEISCHI’S FLUTE 221 


latter never noticed it. But M’hemd Lascheischi said 
to himself: “These two youths do not drive me away 
as my brothers did. And because they are kind to me, 
I shall do something myself to reward them. I wonder 
what would happen were I to try something of the 
sort?” 

The very next day M’hemd Lascheischi. took his fish¬ 
ing-rod, went down to the riverbank and cast out his 
line, only to draw it slowly in again, for he did not get 
a nibble. Then he cast it out for the second time, and 
again pulled it in without having had a bite. But 
when he cast his line out for the third time, he felt 
something at the end of it. So he drew it in carefully, 
and saw that he had caught a small fish. Then he was 
very happy and said tS himself: “It is not much of a 
catch, but it is the first thing I ever earned in my life!” 
And he took the small fish, hung it over his shoulder 
and went back to the house. 

Underway he met a Jewish merchant. And when 
the latter saw the fish he called out to M’hemd Laschei¬ 
schi: “I will buy your fish from you! What do you 
want for it?” Said M’hemd: “All my life long I have 
never caught so valuable a fish before. So I cannot 
sell it to you cheaply.” What M’hemd meant was that 
the fish was valuable to him because it was the result 
of the first work he ever had done in his life. But the 
Jewish merchant answered: “I know that it is a very 
valuable fish, and I would not buy such a miserable 


222 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


little fish at all, if there were not something quite spe¬ 
cial about it. It is for that reason that I offer you 
twenty-five gold pieces for it!” Then M’hemd Laschei- 
schi grew angry, for he thought the man was making 
fun of him, and he answered: “You are joking! Offer 
me the real price!” Then the Jew thought that per¬ 
haps M’hemd did have an inkling of how valuable the 
strange fish really was and said: “Well, then, I will 
offer you all the money I have about me!” And he 
pulled out a purse, counted out the gold pieces in it— 
there were fifty—held them out to M’hemd and said: 
“See, I am giving you all I have!” Then M’hemd saw 
that he was in earnest, so he gave the fish to the Jew, 
took the fifty gold pieces and hurried home. 

When he got there the two* youths had just come 
from their work in the fields and said to M’hemd: 
“Well, what did you do to-day?” And he replied: 
“What do you think I did? I worked, and for the 
first time in my life I earned something. And how 
much do you think I earned?” The two other youths 
could not guess, so M’hemd put his hand in his pocket 
and counted out the fifty gold pieces. Then he told 
them how he had obtained his wealth, and divided the 
gold pieces with them. 

For a time M’hemd and his friends lived well on 
the Jewish merchant’s money until, one fine day, there 
were but two gold pieces left. And when he saw this 
M’hemd Lascheischi once more took up his fishing- 


M’HEMD LASCHEISCHI’S FLUTE 


223 


rod and went to the river, to work for the second time. 

Again he threw out his line twice without catching 
anything. Then he cast it out for the third time, and, 
as on the first day, he caught a little fish. Again, on 
his way home with the fish, he met the Jewish mer¬ 
chant. The Jew stopped, looked at M’hemd’s little 
fish and said: “I will give you fifty gold pieces for this 
fish, as I did for the other.” But M’hemd thought to 
himself: “There must be something out of the ordinary 
about my little fish, for it is well known that a mer¬ 
chant never pays more for anything than it is worth!” 
So he answered: “Dear Jew, I thank you for your kind 
offer! But this fish I shall keep myself. Perhaps when 
I catch my next fish we may be able to do business with 
each other.” 

So M’hemd Lascheischi said farewell to the Jewish 
merchant and went his way. After a time he said to 
himself: “It is true that this fish is very small, yet at 
the same time it is very heavy. I will see what there is 
in it.” So he cut open the fish, and lo and behold, in it 
he found two bags, one filled with gold pieces and the 
other with silver coins! 

M’hemd ran straight home and got there just as his 
companions came from the fields. Said he to them: 
“To-day I worked for the second time and can you 
imagine what I earned?” But his two friends could 
not do so. Then M’hemd showed them the two bags, 
the one filled with gold pieces, and the other with sil- 


224 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


ver coins, and his two companions said: “How did you 
earn them?” But when M’hemd told them his story, 
they cried: “M’hemd, that cannot be the truth! You 
must have stolen the gold from the sultan!” Not until 
M’hemd showed them the fish, and where the bags had 
been lying in it would they believe him. 

Then M’hemd bought a fine farm in the neighbor¬ 
hood, called his two comrades to him and said: “When 
I had nothing you were my friends and took care of 
me. Now it is my turn to look out for you. I have 
bought this farm for you, and I make you a present of 
my gold so that you may stock it and manage it prop¬ 
erly. As for myself, I still wish to wander about the 
world for a while!” And with that he said farewell to 
his friends, flung his fishing-rod over his shoulder, put 
fifty gold pieces in his pocket and went off. 

First of all he went to the near-by city and bought 
skram —which is a substance won from a plant and 
causes those who eat it to fall into a deep slumber— 
and had an old woman bake it into a loaf of bread. 
This loaf of bread he put in his pocket. Then 
M’hemd once more went down to the river to fish. 
And when he had cast in his line for the third time, 
sure enough, he drew in a fish. So he took his fish and 
went back along the road and, as before, he met the 
Jewish merchant. The Jew looked at the fish and 
said: “That fish I will not buy! But come with me 
and we will eat together.” Said M’hemd: “Suppose 


M’HEMD LASCHEISCHI’S FLUTE 225 

we eat here, instead of going back to town. You will 
give me your bread, and you shall have mine.” So 
they exchanged their loaves and began to eat. Not 
long after he had eaten M’hemd’s bread, however, the 
Jew fell into a deep slumber. Then M’hemd turned 
his pockets inside out and found in one of them a sas- 
phar, a small and very beautiful flute. And M’hemd 
shook his head and said: “So that was what the first 
fish I caught contained! It must be a flute of a very 
special kind, and I think I will buy it back from the 
Jew.” For M’hemd was an honest soul. He put the 
flute into his own pocket, and put his fifty gold pieces 
into the pocket of the Jew, left him where he lay to 
wake up at his leisure, and went his way. 

After M’hemd Lascheischi had wandered on for a 
while with the flute in his pocket, he came to a lake 
which was the property of a sultan. And the sultan 
had placed a watchman at the lake to see that none 
drank of its water. M’hemd Lascheischi was thirsty, 
so he went up to the watchman, handed him a lump of 
his tree gum, and said: “Chew some of this fragrant 
gum of the tolu tree. And while you do so allow me 
to drink some of your water, rest myself and play upon 
my flute.” The watchman had no objection, and 
stretching himself out commenced to chew the gum 
M’hemd had given him. 

Meanwhile M’hemd Lascheischi seated himself on 
the edge of the lake and began to blow his flute. He 


226 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


himself noticed that the tones of this flute were dif¬ 
ferent from those of any other. The birds which had 
been twittering in the trees stopped at once; the flies 
ceased buzzing and settled down ; and the fishes thrust 
their heads out of the water to listen. The watchman 
let the lump of gum fall out of his mouth and in the 
sultan’s city his daughter heard the sweet sounds. 

And, lo and behold, in a short time she hurried out 
to the lake, stood before M’hemd Lascheischi and said: 
“Play me another piece on your flute!” But M’hemd 
only smiled and answered: “No, I will not do so.” 
Then the sultan’s daughter said: “Your playing has 
given me such pleasure that I feel I must thank you 
for it! Come to the palace and eat with me.” M’hemd 
Lascheischi replied: “Gladly will I eat with you, but 
I cannot blow my flute for you again at present.” So 
M’hemd Lascheischi accompanied the sultan’s daugh¬ 
ter to the palace, and there she offered him a meal made 
up of many delightful dishes, which M’hemd ate with 
much relish. But in the last dish she gave him the 
sultan’s daughter put some skratn, just as M’hemd 
himself had put in the loaf of bread he gave the Jew; 
and when he had eaten it, M’hemd fell into a deep 
slumber. Then the sultan’s daughter went through his 
pockets, and when she found the flute she quickly threw 
it out of the window, and it fell among the weeds*grow- 
ing from a pile of rubbish. Then she went to her 
room. 


M’HEMD LASCHEISCHFS FLUTE 227 

M’hemd Lascheischi slept for a long time, and when 
he awoke he remembered that he had eaten with the 
sultan’s daughter and then fallen asleep. He at once 
put his hand in the pocket in which he had kept his 
flute, and realized that it was gone. So he rose and 
left the room. In the hall he met a slave and asked 
where the sultan’s daughter might be. “What has a 
fellow like yourself to do with the sultan’s daughter?” 
cried the slave, and, calling a number of other slaves, 
they cast M’hemd Lascheischi out of the palace. 

So M’hemd went down into the city, but found no 
one who would give him a bite to eat. Then he went 
into the forest, felled trees and split them up into 
firewood, which he sold. Thus he became a wood- 
chopper and when, after a time, he could sell no more 
wood in the city, he went to another and continued to 
earn his living in the same way. 

As soon as M’hemd had left the palace, however, 
the sultan’s daughter went down into the courtyard and 
hunted among the weeds on the rubbish pile for the 
flute. And when she found it she took it up into her 
room and began to play. And so sweet was the music 
the flute made that all the slaves in the palace stopped 
work, the mules in the stables raised their heads, the 
cats stood still on the rooftops, and the princess’s 
father, the sultan, came running up and said: “Give 
me the flute! I must have that flute!” But his daugh¬ 
ter answered; “I like the flute so well myself that I 


228 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


shall not give it away. I paid so great a price for the 
flute that I must keep it myself.” But the sultan said: 
“I must have the flute! I want the flute!” “Well, 
then,” said his daughter, “ want must be your master!” 
It was thus that the sultan and his daughter quarreled 
about the flute. 

The next day the sultan’s daughter again played the 
flute. Again the sultan came running up, and when 
his daughter once more refused to give him the flute 
he grew even more angry than the day before. So the 
sultan’s daughter continued to blow her flute, day by 
day, and day by day her father, the sultan, became 
more and more enraged. 

Finally, one day, his anger got the better of him, so 
that he called some of his servants to him and said to 
them: “Ride into the forest with my daughter and slay 
her there! And bring me the golden fillet which binds 
her hair as a proof that you really have killed her!” 
So his slaves rode out into the forest with the sultan’s 
daughter and said to her: “Your father has com¬ 
manded us to kill you, and we must do as he says.” 
And with that they drew forth their daggers, and were 
about to slay her when she seized the flute and com¬ 
menced to blow it. Then the slaves all stood motion¬ 
less, and did not dare carry out the sultan’s command. 
So the sultan’s daughter took the golden fillet which 
bound her hair from her head and said: “Here is the 
golden fillet which binds my hair! Return to my 


M’HEMD LASCHEISCHI’S FLUTE 229 

father, give him the fillet and say that you have slain 
me. If you do not promise to do what I tell you this 
very minute, I shall begin to play again, and when I 
have played I shall order you to slay each other. And 
so great is the power of the music of my flute that you 
will do $0!” Then the sultan’s slaves were much 
alarmed. They at once promised to say to the sultan 
what the princess had told them to say, and hastened 
away out of the forest. 

The sultan’s daughter, when she saw herself alone, 
grew frightened. So she climbed into a tree and hid 
herself. And after she had been there a while, a 
horseman rode up close to the tree in which she had 
hidden. At once the sultan’s daughter took out the 
flute and commenced to play. And the horseman, 
peering up into the leaves, cried: “Who is up there?” 
The sultan’s daughter answered: “A lonely young 
girl!” Then the horseman said: “Do you want to leave 
the forest with me?” “Yes, indeed,” said the girl, “if 
you are willing to change clothes with me, so that you 
go dressed as a girl and I ride as a man.” And the 
horseman said: “Very well, let it be as you say.” So 
the sultan’s daughter climbed down from the tree, laid 
aside her own clothes and put on those of the man, 
placing the flute of M’hemd Lescheischi in her pocket. 
Then she said: “Let me mount the horse and do you 
follow me!” The horseman did not object to this, and 
so the sultan’s daughter mounted the horse, and for a 


230 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

time rode slowly through the forest so that the man 
could walk close behind her. Then suddenly, the sul¬ 
tan’s daughter thrust her heels into the horse’s flanks, 
and the horse shot off like an arrow. The man dressed 
as a girl cried: “Whoa, whoa!” but the girl dressed as 
a man said: “I have to give him his head!” and she 
rode off so swiftly that the man was unable to follow 
her. 

That evening the disguised girl came to a lonely hut 
in the forest. There lived an evil, old scold who had 
not spoken a kind word for years. She was so disagree¬ 
able that no one ever ventured near her cottage. The 
disguised girl stopped her horse at the door of the hut, 
drew out her flute, and began to play it. Then all the 
birds in the forest fell silent, the brooks ceased run¬ 
ning and the leaves stopped rustling and the evil old 
woman laid her ear against the crack in the house door. 
When the disguised girl took the flute from her mouth 
the evil old woman came out of the house laughing and 
said: “Tell me, worthy man, is there any service I can 
render you?” Said the disguised girl: “Bring me 
something to eat quickly, and then show me the road 
to the nearest city!” And the evil old woman ran as 
fast as she could to do so. She brought out the best she 
had to eat, and then hobbled along to show the dis¬ 
guised girl the road leading from the forest to the near¬ 
est city. At the edge of the forest the old woman, who 
had done nothing but scold for so many years, thanked 


M’HEMD LASCHEISCHI’S FLUTE 231 

the disguised girl for her music and cordially begged 
her to visit her again. “In yonder city,” said the old 
woman, as she left her, “there dwells a sultan who has 
had all his sons killed, so evil is his heart! Beware of 
him!” 

After a time the girl disguised as a man reached the 
city. She rode through the gate, and up to the sultan’s 
palace, and there put the flute to her lips, and made 
music on it. And at once all the men and beasts fell 
silent. The walls of the houses bent forward to listen, 
and the wind ceased blowing. But the wicked old sul¬ 
tan began to weep and sob. When the disguised girl 
put away the flute, the sultan hurried to the window, 
and called out into the square, so that all the people 
could hear him: “Yonder man shall be my son and 
your sultan! Now I know that I have done much evil! 
Hasten up to me, O worthy man, so that I may seat you 
on my throne, for now that I realize my wickedness I 
shall die at once!” 

When the people of the city heard this they were 
very happy. Many came and surrounded the disguised 
girl while the evil sultan, lying on his couch, begged 
her to be a better ruler than he had been. The towns¬ 
folk present when the old sultan died immediately ac¬ 
cepted the son whom he had adopted to rule over them. 
For not one of them suspected that the girl was no man 
but a maid, and the daughter of another sultan. 

So for some years the sultan’s daughter lived and 


232 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

ruled as a sultan, and the people of the town never 
knew that their ruler was not a man. 

Now it happened that M’hemd Lascheischi was liv¬ 
ing in that very same city. In order to earn his daily 
bread he had to go into the forest every day and to cut 
wood and bundle it. And it often happened that the 
people who bought his wood paid him with coin that 
was under weight, so that he had to go hungry. One 
day a wealthy man even refused to pay him the sum of 
what he owed him, and when M’hemd Lascheischi de¬ 
manded his money, he had him beaten and driven out 
of the house. Then M’hemd Lascheischi said to him¬ 
self : “I think I shall carry my complaint to the young 
sultan, for they say he is a just man.” And the next 
day M’hemd Lascheischi went to the daughter of the 
sultan of that other city, and, standing before the ruler 
who was a maid, though dressed as a man and a sultan 
—for he did not recognize her—he presented his com¬ 
plaint. 

But the disguised sultan’s daughter had recognized 
M’hemd Lascheischi and she noticed with terror how 
weak and worn he looked. And when she, as the sul¬ 
tan, had listened to his story, she saw that the wealthy 
man had done the poor woodchopper a wrong, and de¬ 
livered judgment accordingly. Then when the court 
proceedings were over, the girl disguised as a sultan 
had the woodchopper brought into the palace, where a 
splendid meal was served him and a soft bed was pre- 


M’HEMD LASCHEISCHI’S FLUTE 233 

pared for him. For several days M’hemd Lascheischi 
lived on the fat of the land, and said to himself: “I 
very much wonder why it is that I am so well treated 
here in the sultan’s palace?” One evening, after sun¬ 
down, the girl disguised as a sultan sent for M’hemd 
Lascheischi, and then ordered all her attendants to 
leave the room. 

When they were alone M’hemd Lascheischi said: 
“Tell me, I beg of you, O Sultan, why is it you have 
treated me, the poor woodchopper, in so generous a 
fashion?” And the girl disguised as a sultan answered: 
“I have done so because I must have you killed, and I 
thought it only fair that first you should have a taste of 
the good things to which you were entitled!” Said 
M’hemd Lascheischi: “So you are going to have me 
killed?” And the girl disguised as a sultan replied: 
“Behold I have been able to make birds and beasts fall 
silent in the middle of the day. By playing my flute I 
have forced the walls of the houses to bend forward to 
listen, caused the wind to cease blowing and made the 
evil old sultan of this land die of grief because of his 
wickedness, and, that he might do at least one good 
deed, adopt me as a son and appoint me sultan. That 
is the right and the might by which I now shall 
have you killed!” 

M’hemd Lascheischi reflected for a moment and then 
said: “All these things I have heard told about. And 
I will admit that you have the right and the might to 


234 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

have me killed, if I cannot accomplish far more with 
the very same flute that you have blown. Therefore 
lend me the flute!” The girl disguised as a sultan drew 
out the flute and gave it to M’hemd Lascheischi. And 
the moment he took it in his hand he recognized it, 
and at the selfsame moment he recognized the sultan’s 
daughter. 

But of this M’hemd Lascheischi said never a word. 
He only stepped to the window, put the flute to his 
mouth, and commenced to blow. And then through¬ 
out the city and far, far out over the countryside, all 
the people and all the beasts awoke, and their hearts 
beat loudly. The moon, riding high in the heavens, 
bowed down to earth, together with the whole host of 
the stars. And in the middle of the night, radiantly 
red and gigantic in size, the sun rose up into the heav¬ 
ens to listen! And the girl disguised as a sultan fell 
down at the feet of M’hemd Lascheischi and kissed the 
hem of his garment. 

M’hemd Lascheischi took the flute from his mouth, 
and the girl disguised as a sultan raised her head and 
said, pleadingly: “M’hemd Lascheischi, I beg of you 
make me your wife! Do you be the sultan, and never 
let another, not even myself, blow the magic flute 
again!” And thus it was. Blessed be Allah, the Om¬ 
nipotent, through the ages and ages! 


THE GOLDEN HATCHET 


O NE evening a young girl was sitting in a Lettish 
peasant home, spinning by the light of the pine 
splinters. The mistress of the house and her daughter 
—for the master had been dead some three years—were 
already abed. They took life easy, and put off all the 
hard work on the poor serving-girl, so that she had her 
hands full from sunup until midnight, though nothing 
she did ever earned her a kind word. When she had 
done anything properly all she heard was: “Well, well, 
I suppose that will do, but hurry now and get the rest 
of your work done!” Yet the least little mistake called 
forth abuse and blows. 

What was poor Ilse—for that was her name—to do? 
She was an orphan, and poor, and so she had to make 
the best of things. And something else made life hard 
for her to bear. The son of the neighboring farmer, 
an honest, good-looking lad, would gladly have mar¬ 
ried her, had it not been for the fact that his parents 
objected. They did not think it fitting that the heir 
to a fine farm should marry a poor serving-maid, and 
their choice of a bride for him was the daughter of 
Use’s mistress. All arrangements had been made some 
three days before, and the date of the wedding had 
been set for the coming Easter. 

235 


236 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

Ilse loved Ans with all her heart, but had to be care¬ 
ful to hide her feelings from the eyes of the world. 
She was only a poor orphan girl, and none bothered 
their heads about her, one way or another. So she sat 
at her spinning-wheel in silent thought, while the icy 
North wind howled and blustered about the house, and 
the snow danced in a wild whirl of white flakes across 
the courtyard. Many a bitter tear dropped on the soft 
flax, and many a heavy sigh rose to the low, smoke- 
blackened rafters of the roof. And, gradually, born 
of her tears and sighs, she began to sing a little song: 

“Hurriedly the sun departed, 

Left me in the shade to stay; 

I’ve no mother dear to lead me, 

Where the golden sunbeams play. 

“Wait for me, O sun so hasty! 

Take my message as you flee: 

Bring a thousand evening greetings 
To my mother dear from me. 

“Low the shining sun is sinking, 

Far away my mother dear, 

The sun will never get my message, 

My mother ne’er my voice will hear!” 

Out of the next room sounded the hoarse voice of 
Use’s mistress: “Stop your dreadful yammering! 


THE GOLDEN HATCHET 


237 


Your croaking is enough to make the dead rise from 
their graves!” And the daughter scolded: “If you 
have to complain, go out into the court and howl to¬ 
gether with the North Wind!” Ilse answered never 
a word and tried to spin, but hands and vision failed 
her. Tired out, she leaned her little golden-blond 
head against the hard wooden wall and closed her eyes. 
The half-burned pine splinter went out and the room 
grew dark. Outside the North wind continued to howl 
and blow. . . . 

It may have been about six o’clock in the morning 
when Ilse was roused from her uneasy slumber by a 
knocking at the little window. She went to the door, 
but in the darkness of the winter morning she could 
not make out any one in the court. Then a trembling 
voice, like that of some old beggar, fell on her ear: 
“Take pity, dear maiden,” it said, “on a poor old man 
who has lost his way and is half dead with hunger and 
cold!” 

Ilse thought for a moment. Well she knew that her 
mistress would never give a beggar a crust, but would 
drive him from the place with scorn and abuse. But 
she and her daughter were still asleep, and it was cer¬ 
tain that they would not rise before seven. “Come into 
the cowshed with me, old man,” said Ilse; “there you 
may warm yourself for an hour, and I will bring you 
bread and milk!” 

She led the poor, frozen man into the cowshed, told 


238 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

him to sit down on an upturned pail, milked one of the 
cows so that he could have a warm drink, and brought 
him a portion of the bread which she had felt too un¬ 
happy to eat the night before. The beggar strength¬ 
ened and warmed himself, and then spoke—no longer 
with a weak, trembling voice, but in full, melodious 
tones—and said: “Thank you for your charity, and the 
kindness you have shown me. I am not he for whom 
you take me, but who I am need be no concern of 
yours. I shall only tell you that I know all your mind 
thinks and all your heart feels—and it is my will that 
you find happiness. So pay attention to my words. 
Have you ever heard of Lauskis and his golden 
hatchet?” Ilse said that she had not. “Well, this is 
the way of it,” said the beggar. “Lauskis is a spirit of 
the cold, who comes to split the earth at the time of the 
heavy frost with his golden hatchet. Now, if a young, 
innocent girl happens to run three times swiftly around 
the house, at midnight, between the first and twelfth 
strokes of the clock, then it is quite possible for the 
Frost Spirit to lose his hatchet. This hatchet, however, 
is made of solid gold and whoever finds it can get many 
thousands of rubles for it. All that is needed is inno¬ 
cence, courage and agility.” Thus spoke the beggar, 
while Ilse looked at him with astonishment—for what 
had become of him? The pail on which he had been 
sitting was vacant—and the dawn light which filtered 
into the cowshed showed no trace of him. The young 


THE GOLDEN HATCHET 


239 


girl shuddered; unconsciously she murmured a short 
prayer, and then thoughtfully returned to the house. 
By now her mistress was up and the daily round of 
wretchedness began again. Thus things went on for 
weeks. 

A stormy January had been followed by a clear but 
bitter cold February. At night it often froze so that 
the earth cracked and the ice burst in the ponds. One 
day Use’s mistress and her daughter drove to town to 
buy various things for the daughter’s trousseau. They 
were not to return until the following afternoon, so 
Ilse remained at home alone. That evening, while 
she was spinning, she happened to recall the half-for¬ 
gotten story the strange old man had told her, and the 
longer she dwelt on his words the more irresistibly the 
desire awoke in her heart to try her luck with Lauskis, 
the Frost Spirit. The hours before midnight went by 
for her as though in a dream. And when the old 
grandfather’s clock in her mistress’s bedchamber, 
whose door now stood open, chimed the first stroke of 
twelve—Ilse flung out of the door, and ran three times 
around the house like the wind. Then came so terrible 
a crash that house, stable and cowshed trembled and 
shook, and Ilse had difficulty in holding herself up by 
the beam of the door! 

Then, just as suddenly, all was over. The moon 
shone clear and bright in the sky, as it does on winter 
nights in the North, and its light fell on a splendid, 


2 4 o WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


golden hatchet which lay at the girl’s very feet. . . . 

When Easter came, Ans, the son of the farmer next 
door was married, not to the daughter of Use’s mistress, 
but to Use herself, the poor, despised orphan serving- 
girl, now the wealthiest maiden in all that part of the 
country. The years rolled by in happiness and con¬ 
tentment for Ilse and Ans, and if they have not died 
they are living to this very day. 


THE INTELLIGENT WEAVER 


O NCE upon a time, a king sat on his throne, sur¬ 
rounded by his ministers of state and great offi¬ 
cers of the crown, to receive the ambassador of another 
monarch who on different occasions had tried to en¬ 
tangle him in a quarrel. 

Now in the second king’s land loquacity was held 
in horror. The man who was given to fine speeches, 
in order to make the people believe he was intelligent 
or powerful, was distrusted. The man of few words, 
and to the point, was believed. And above all, the man 
who knew how to express his thoughts without saying 
a word and could read the thoughts of others without 
asking a question was held in the highest honor. 

When he was led into the king’s presence, the foreign 
ambassador silently drew a circle around the royal 
throne. That was his whole message. Then, having 
taken off his babouches, his heelless leather slippers, 
he seated himself with his legs crossed, opposite the 
king. And there he remained, his lips closed, like a 
man awaiting an answer. 

The king had no idea what the circle drawn around 
his throne meant. First, with a glance, then in a low 
tone of voice, he questioned his grand vizier, his other 

241 


242 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

ministers, and the nobles and officers surrounding him. 
But they knew no more than he did. 

Then the king felt very much annoyed. It seemed 
shameful to him that among all his advisers there was 
not one man intelligent enough to explain the ambassa¬ 
dor’s thought to him. No doubt he would have over¬ 
whelmed them with violent reproaches till the walls 
trembled, for he was easily angered and had a loud 
voice, but he dared not let his wrath burst forth in the 
presence of the stranger, who continued to look at him 
in silence. 

At last, rolling around his terrible eyes, he whis¬ 
pered to the grand vizier to send messengers into the 
city to bring back the most clever and well informed 
men to be found there. If they did not return with 
some one who could explain the ambassador’s gesture, 
he added, he would see to it that all his ministers’ heads 
were cut off. 

So while the messengers hurried from street to 
street, and from house to house, seeking the man they 
needed, the king and the ambassador remained sitting 
face to face, without uttering a word. Though the 
king pretended to be deep in thought to save his face, 
in reality he felt much embarrassed. And those about 
him, overcome with shame and trembling with terror, 
did not know what to do with themselves. The only 
person entirely at ease was the foreign ambassador. 


THE INTELLIGENT WEAVER 243 

Meanwhile the king’s messengers were going hither 
and thither, two by two. And it chanced that a pair 
of them, thinking him some needy scholar, entered the 
humble lodging of a weaver, whose intelligence had 
been praised to them. Climbing the one flight of stairs 
in the little house, they opened a door and found a lit¬ 
tle girl asleep in her cradle. Her father was working 
downstairs, her mother had gone to market, yet the 
child had fallen asleep—for the cradle was rocking, 
though there was no one in the room nor in the one 
adjoining. 

Much surprised, the messengers climbed out upon 
the flat roof of the dwelling. There, again, they did 
not see a soul, yet a large rose tree, planted in a plot 
of ground, was swinging to and fro regularly, without 
there being a breath of air to move it. They saw that 
the regular movement of the rose tree was meant to 
drive away the birds, for the roof was covered with 
grains of wheat which had been washed and spread out 
in the sun to dry. Without the movement of the rose 
tree the sparrows would not have hesitated to carry off 
the wheat. 

More and more surprised, the messengers went 
downstairs again and entered a small workshop which 
on one side opened on the street and gave on a court¬ 
yard on the other. They had not thought of going in 
before they ascended the stairs to, what they took for 


244 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

granted must be, the scholar’s rooms. But now they 
wanted to find an explanation for what had seemed 
so strange to them. 

They found the weaver very busy with his shuttle, 
for he was finishing a piece of cloth. 

When his visitors questioned him, the artisan showed 
them that he had attached one string to one end of his 
shuttle and another to the other. While he wove, the 
two strings, coming and going, made the cradle and 
the rose tree move. And the two strings, running from 
his workshop to the bedroom and the roof, had been 
put along the walls, so that they were not in the way 
and had not attracted the attention of the king’s mes¬ 
sengers. 

They looked at the weaver and shook their heads 
admiringly. 

“This is a clever fellow!” their glances said to one 
another. And suddenly the same thought occurred to 
both of them: 

“This is the man we need!” 

So they told the weaver that a foreign ambassador 
had drawn a circle around the royal throne and that 
no one in the palace knew what his action meant. 

“Come along with us,” they said, “and if you can 
manage to explain the riddle, the king will give you a 
splendid reward.” 

The weaver gave a few moments’ thought to what 
they had told him; then stooped and picked from the 


THE INTELLIGENT WEAVER 245 

ground the knuckle-bones with which his little son, 
when he came home from school, played, as children 
do when a little comrade comes along to visit them. 

As he was about to leave the workshop a young pul¬ 
let, looking for something to eat, fluttered from the 
courtyard through the open door into the >room. 

“Who knows,” thought the weaver, “if you will not 
be of use to me?” And picking up the pullet he thrust 
it in his girdle and followed the two messengers, who 
led him to the palace. 

Soon our weaver stood before the king’s throne, 
charged to answer the ambassador. He was careful 
not to open his mouth. 

“This man is not fond of words,” he said to himself, 
“I will say nothing and pay him in his own coin.” 

Having thus spoken to himself he took his two 
knuckle-bones and threw them on the ground, in front 
of the ambassador. Then he calmly looked him in the 
eye. 

The ambassador seemed surprised and somewhat 
vexed. But, soon regaining control of himself, he 
drew a handful of millet-seed from his pocket and 
spread it out on the ground. 

The weaver smiled. 

“Ah, my little pullet,” thought he, “you did well to 
fly into my workshop! It is you who shall furnish me 
with an answer.” 

He released the pullet, which at once began to pick 


246 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

up the grain. Thereupon the ambassador put on his 
babouches, rose and went away like a man who has had 
his answer. 

No sooner had he gone than the king descended 
from his throne and every one crowded about the 
weaver to ask him what it all had meant. As much at 
ease among the grandees of the kingdom as before his 
little daughter in the cradle, he answered without 
haste: 

“The man meant to say: ‘If our king comes forth to 
fight you and surrounds your capital, what will you 
do? Will you recognize him as your master, or will 
you defend yourselves?’ I threw down the knuckle¬ 
bones in front of him and answered: ‘You are children 
compared to us!’ ” 

“That is true,” said the king; “when we were small 
all of us played knuckle-bones, I as well as the rest. 
Continue!” 

“By scattering the millet-seed the ambassador an¬ 
swered: ‘Our soldiers are countless in number.’ And 
I let loose the pullet to reply: ‘A single one of us 
could slay a hundred of you!’ ” 

The king marveled. He realized that the weaver 
had done him an inestimable service, for the ambassa¬ 
dor had left without a single threatening gesture. No 
doubt he thought that a people able to reply as the 
weaver had done, would be a hard nut to crack if they 
were attacked. 


THE INTELLIGENT WEAVER 247 

Full of admiration for the weaver, the king would 
have heaped honors upon him and would even have 
made him his grand vizier. But all the artisan would 
accept was a trifling gift. 

“A weaver I am,” said he, “and a weaver I shall 
remain!” 

Then, before leaving the palace to return to his 
loom, he added: 

“All that I ask of you, O king, is never to forget 
that among your humblest subjects are men capable of 
understanding things the intelligence of your grand 
vizier cannot grasp. Remember well that weavers, 
shoemakers, blacksmiths and charcoal-burners are not 
necessarily brainless!” 


HOW THE CROW CAME TO BE BLACK 

* 

HE crane was a great fisherman. It was its cus- 



-*• tom to drive the fish out from beneath the tree 
roots on the river bank with its feet, and thus it caught 
a great number. 

One day when the crane had again collected a large 
number of fish on the riverbank, along came the crow 
—at that time the crow was pure white—and begged 
the crane for some fish. 

“Wait a bit,” said the crane, “until they are ready.” 
But the crow was hungry and impatient, and continued 
to tease the crane, which only kept on saying: “Wait, 
wait a bit!” 

Then the crane turned its back on the crow. At 
once the latter sneaked up and was just about to 
snatch a fish when the crane turned around again. 
Then the crane grew angry ; it took up a fish and boxed 
the crow’s ears with it. And the crow was stunned for 
a moment, and fell into the burned and blackened fire¬ 
place where it rolled around in pain. When it recov¬ 
ered and went away, only its eyes were white, and all 
its beautiful white feathers had turned black. And 
since that time all crows have been black. 


248 


TULISA 


I N a certain kingdom of the East there once lived a 
woodchopper so poor that when his axe split he 
could not buy a new one to take its place, and there was 
nothing left for him to do but gather firewood with his 
wife and daughter. Yet, if they found enough brush 
to supply their food for the day, these easily contented 
folk were glad. But such was not always the case, 
and often they had to fast so long that they were quite 
weak with hunger. To see his only daughter Tulisa 
share her parents’ misery grieved Nur-Singh more 
than his own wretchedness, for Tulisa was old enough 
to wed some good man. Yet who wanted to marry a 
poor girl whose father could hardly earn his daily 
bread, to say nothing of saving a dower for her? And 
of what use was Tulisa’s beauty, if no one ever saw her? 
The woodchopper’s family lived off in the forest, far 
away from other people. 

Yet Tulisa, who was not altogether without ambi¬ 
tion, liked to look at her reflection in the pool near 
their hut, and sweeten the wretchedness of the present 
with dreams of the future. Though her couch was the 
hard, cold ground, she would imagine herself lying on 
a divan with silver feet, under a brocade cover, sur- 
249 


250 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

rounded by sumptuous riches. Such pictures of the 
imagination would help her forget her hours of bitter 
wretchedness. Yet her awakening was doubly hard, 
for then she once more had to take her way to the 
forest to gather firewood. 

One day, while wandering wearily through the 
forest, she came to the remains of a totally ruined well, 
overgrown with creepers, and, to her joy and surprise, 
saw a great pile of brush on its edge. Quickly she 
dragged together a large bundle of the firewood, but 
her joy turned to fright when she suddenly heard a 
deep, hollow voice, which seemed to come from the 
well call out “Tulisa!” Astonished, she turned her 
head and listened. There was nothing to be seen, yet 
again she heard the same voice, and this time it said: 
“Tulisa, will you marry me?” Trembling with fear, 
the poor girl seized her bundle of wood and ran off. 
“Never,” thought she, “will I go back to that uncanny 
spot.” 

Yet, alas, hunger hurts! The proceeds of the bundle 
of firewood from the ruined well supplied Tulisa and 
her parents with food for several days. But then it 
seemed as though not a bit of wood was to be found 
anywhere. What was there left for Tulisa to do but 
to overcome her horror of the spirit of the well, and 
once more go to it? When she got there, the firewood 
lay heaped up at the edge of the well, even more gen¬ 
erously than before, and it looked so inviting that 


TULISA 


251 


Tulisa almost forgot her fear and stepped nearer. In 
a short time she once more had gathered a large bun¬ 
dle, and already hoped to be able to retreat undis¬ 
turbed. Yet suddenly the words: “Tulisa, will you 
marry me?” once more sounded from the well. 

As fast as her feet could carry her she ran away and 
reached the house safely. But this time, with fear and 
trembling, she told her parents what had happened to 
her, for she had said nothing the first time. Yet the 
good man and his wife found the matter far less terri¬ 
fying than their daughter. They advised her to go to 
the well a third time without any fear whatever, and 
should the voice again call out to her, to refer the un¬ 
known suitor—to her father! For days Tulisa refused, 
but at last, when the supply of wood had all been sold, 
and hunger once more knocked at the door, she had to 
do as her parents advised. When she was about to run 
off with her bundle of wood, the voice called out 
more urgently than before: “Tulisa, will you marry 
me?” Then, gathering up all her courage, the trem¬ 
bling girl said: “How can I answer a question which 
must be put to my father?” “Then send your father 
here!” said the voice from the well. 

Happy to have escaped so lightly, Tulisa ran back 
to the hut and told her parents word for word what 
had happened. And her father, not at all afraid, set 
out for the well, and once there, did not have to wait 
long for the spirit’s voice. Distinctly there floated up 


252 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

from the well shaft the words: “Nur-Singh, you are a 
poor man! Give me your daughter for my wife and I 
will make her rich and happy! And you and your wife 
shall have fine clothes and good food to your heart’s 
content, your shadow shall never grow less, and your 
riches shall increase. Because, you see, I am able to 
give you your heart’s desire!” 

Dazzled by such splendid promises, the woodchop- 
per did not lose a moment in agreeing to the well- 
spirit’s proposal. He fixed the wedding-day and, over¬ 
come with joy, returned to his wretched hut. The 
time remaining until the wedding-day was spent by the 
family in a state of feverish excitement; yet the nearer 
came the day, the more painfully aware the poor folk 
were of their poverty. What preparations could they 
make to receive a rich and powerful suitor? True, he 
knew their wretched state, yet he was sure to feel hurt 
if on such a festive occasion he was received in beg¬ 
gar’s rags, and without any sign of nuptial joy. Yet 
to their great astonishment, a few days before the date 
set, a strange procession came out of the forest and 
approached the hut. In the usual manner, when wed¬ 
ding-gifts are presented, a hundred heavily laden bas¬ 
kets were carried but—there were no bearers to be 
seen! It must have been the hands and shoulders of 
spirits which supported these baskets floating in the 
air! And what were their contents? Some were filled 
with roast fowls, fruit and pastry; others held silken 


TULISA 


253 


shawls, costly shoes and all a woman might need by 
way of dress and adornment. The baskets themselves 
were decorated as for a wedding, and bright lamps 
danced and swayed in the hands of invisible servants. 
It was a beautiful sight, one which promised well for 
the future, and Tulisa and her mother, who hitherto 
had regarded the giver of these gifts with suspicion, 
now began to feel the highest regard for him. 

At the day and hour fixed, the woodchopper’s family 
stood expectantly by the well in the forest. There 
nothing had changed, and there was nothing to show 
that the spirit had made any preparations for the wed¬ 
ding. After a long silence the woodchopper, who al¬ 
ready thought he had been deceived, cried out: “How 
am I to marry off my daughter, if there is no one here 
to receive her?” 

“We all are here,” came the voice from the well, 
“the bridegroom and his friends. Simply place this 
ring on your daughter’s hand, and she becomes my 
bride.” 

And then, wonder of wonders, a costly ring appeared 
floating in the air before Nur-Singh’s eyes I He obeyed 
the spirit’s instructions and when he turned from the 
well, there on the grass stood a beautiful tent of silk, 
in which a splendid banquet had been spread. The 
dishes gave out an appetizing odor, and soft music, 
played by spirit hands, invited the guests to approach. 
The woodchopper lost no time, but at once sat down 


254 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

with his wife and daughter and all three ate the best 
meal they ever had tasted in their lives. Tulisa, her¬ 
self, whose heart was beating with expectation, how¬ 
ever, hardly touched the food, though her father, 
whose jaws never ceased wagging, encouraged her to 
do so. When they rose from the table, a splendid 
palanquin drew up at the entrance to the tent, carried 
by invisible bearers. When she saw it poor Tulisa 
trembled and threw her arms around her mother. 
And her mother, who thus far had felt happy, began 
to cry now that the hour of parting was at hand, and 
she knew not what fate awaited her child. But she 
realized that it would be useless to attempt to with¬ 
stand fate. Sobbing, Tulisa sank down on the soft 
cushions of her litter, which at once began to move 
off. Her parents followed, and soon they came to a 
deep ravine which led out into a broad plain quite un¬ 
known to them. 

In the midst of this plain rose a palace whose domes 
and towers were covered with gold, and which was 
surrounded by a high wall. The litter moved directly 
toward the tremendous gateway in the wall, whose 
doors silently swung open, while the litter floated in 
and disappeared in the interior of the court. Once 
more the parents saw their daughter’s white hand wave 
to them in farewell, then the great doors swung to as 
silently as they had opened, and they set out for home. 

But even before they reached their hut their sorrows 


TULISA 


255 


turned to joy, for the spirit of the well had kept his 
word. Everywhere along the forest they found great 
quantities of firewood, carefully tied up in bundles. 
In the future they would no longer have to hunt for it, 
and as a result they became more prosperous day by 
day. Soon they were able to build a handsome house, 
to keep serving-men and serving-maids, and to live in 
a joyous and carefree manner. The friends and neigh¬ 
bors who never before had given them a thought, now 
came to see them in crowds, and it was hard to escape 
their curious questions, since all wanted to know to 
whom Tulisa had been married and how they had ob¬ 
tained their wealth. But Nur-Singh was careful not 
to tell them what he knew. 

Meanwhile Tulisa lived very happily with her hus¬ 
band, whom she saw only at night, for he left the pal¬ 
ace in the morning and did not return until evening, 
never telling her where he went. Nor did she dare ask 
him, for she still held him in great awe, though he 
showered her with proofs of his affection. Every day 
he brought her new, costly gifts, and he asked but one 
thing of her: that she did not leave the palace or allow 
a stranger to enter it during his absence. At first Tulisa 
did not find her confinement irksome; for the palace 
was filled with the rarest valuables, and she never tired 
of going from one room to another and admiring the 
contents. Besides, there were gardens within the walls, 
filled with flower fragrance, and in which all the fruits 


256 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

of the world invited her to taste. Concealed amid the 
green bushes were marble baths and little pleasure 
pavilions. Wherever Tulisa went she was surrounded 
by girl attendants who carried out her every wish, and 
who danced, played the lute, or told her stories when 
she was bored. 

One day, however, when Tulisa was walking by her¬ 
self along a lonely garden path she saw a dainty little 
squirrel pursued by a much larger and ferocious one. 
The little squirrel screamed as though in fear of death 
and looked at Tulisa with pleading eyes, so that the 
latter picked up a branch which lay on the ground and, 
threatening its pursuer, gave the little animal a chance 
to escape safely. Yet, too kind-hearted to injure any 
creature, even a hateful and malicious one, Tulisa con¬ 
tented herself with driving the evil squirrel over the 
garden wall, so that her favorites, especially the birds 
which she fed, would not be frightened by it. 

Naturally enough, Tulisa forgot this little happen¬ 
ing, which later was to be very important. And in the 
meantime, one day went by like another, until grad¬ 
ually the young bride, in spite of all the splendor which 
surrounded her, began to look for a change. But the 
gates of the palace still remained locked and the ser¬ 
vants still were forbidden, under pain of death, to ad¬ 
mit a stranger. We must remember that Tulisa never 
had a chance to buy herself anything; that she never 
could hear what went on in the neighborhood, some- 


TULISA 


257 


thing which had been possible even in the time of her 
utmost wretchedness. And to hear nothing but stories 
of people who were unknown to her ended by growing 
tiresome. Nor did her valuable jewels give her any 
pleasure, for now she knew them by heart. How 
gladly would she have exchanged them all for a 
wreath of jasmine blossoms, such as she formerly had 
picked in the woods! In short, since she no longer 
felt the bitterness of poverty, which had darkened her 
previous existence, she forgot her former sufferings 
and thought that all the valuables which her husband 
had given her could not make up for the loss of asso¬ 
ciation with people of her own kind. 

Now one morning a little old woman who had 
bananas for sale appeared before the palace gate. The 
guards, of course, drove her off, but the old woman 
kept wandering around the walls until she came to the 
foot of a corner tower from whose window Tulisa was 
looking longingly out into the distance. The old 
woman at once overwhelmed her with flattery, and 
promised her all sorts of wonderful things if only she 
could be admitted to her presence. She had so much 
to tell her, said she, but because they were so far away 
from each other it was not possible to talk comforta¬ 
bly. Would she not let her come up? Poor Tulisa 
felt so lonely that she could not resist the temptation 
to talk with some one from the outside world. So she 
let a long cloth down from the top of the tower, up 


258 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

which the old woman climbed like a flash. Of course, 
it was stupid of Tulisa not to know that only a spirit 
could have done so. The supposed seller of bananas, 
as soon as she had entered Tulisa’s room, sat down 
humbly on the edge of the carpet and really did talk 
so amusingly and entertainingly that time went by in 
the happiest way for Tulisa. And the old woman not 
only told Tulisa all she wished to know, but also asked 
many a question herself. 

At last she said: “My daughter, you tell me that 
your husband loves and spoils you. Yet answer me one 
question: Does he eat with you? Does he ever take a 
bit of food from your own plate?” 

“No,” said Tulisa, surprised and thoughtful, “he 
never has thought me worthy of this honor.” 

“In that case, my daughter,” said the old woman, 
“you should insist this very day that he conform to this 
custom, like every other husband. Otherwise he will 
think you are beneath him, and will hold you in con¬ 
tempt. For if he refuses to honor you, it is a sign that 
he does not look upon you as his rightful wife!” 

After the old woman had poured this poison into 
Tulisa’s ear she quickly disappeared. And Tulisa, full 
of uneasiness, kept repeating to herself what she meant 
to say to her husband when he returned that night, for 
she had determined to follow the old woman’s treach¬ 
erous advice. So she did not touch her supper, but 
waited until the spirit prince entered the room, Then 


TULISA 


259 


she ran to meet him and begged him so stormily to eat 
with her for once, that he smilingly sat down beside 
her, took some food from her plate and pretended to 
eat and enjoy it. Well he realized that some one had 
put the evil thought into Tulisa’s head, and when he 
went away he gave stricter orders than before to let 
no one enter the palace. 

For a time Tulisa was more contented, for she 
thought that she had gained her point. Yet unfortu¬ 
nately, one day, she saw the same old woman beneath 
her window again, this time disguised as a seller of 
antimony, which is used to blacken the eyebrows. 
Again she entered into conversation with her, and 
again the old witch climbed up into her room. Again 
they talked together and, after many flatteries, she 
asked Tulisa whether her husband really had done her 
the honor of eating from the same plate with her. 
Proudly Tulisa told her that he had, but when the old 
woman inquired whether he ever had chewed a betel 
leaf and given it to her—the one sign of true love on a 
husband’s part—Tulisa, who had never noticed his neg¬ 
lect before, cried out indignantly: “No, he never has 
done so!” And as soon as the old woman had disap¬ 
peared she made up her mind to gain this favor. 

That evening she said to her husband: “Why have 
you never given me a betel leaf from your own lips, 
as other men who honor their wives do?” 

“Do not ask,” replied the spirit husband, displeased; 


260 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


“be content with the fact that I take a betel leaf from 
your lips, and do not insist on having one from mine!” 
In vain Tulisa used flatteries and tears to have her way. 
The spirit remained unmoved, and she had to acknowl¬ 
edge with regret that she was far from ruling him. 

But no doubt her own amiable disposition and the 
affection the spirit showed her soon would have driven 
away her evil thoughts had it not been for the horrible 
old witch, who now appeared for the third time. 
Again she won unsuspicious Tulisa’s heart with her 
flatteries, and at last asked: “Has your husband ever 
told you his name?” Tulisa was obliged to say no to 
this question, too, and then the old woman insisted that 
she demand it of him, as a proof of true love. In fact, 
said the witch, she was not her husband’s wife at all so 
long as she did not know his name. So that evening, 
when the spirit prince entered Tulisa’s room, she at 
once mentioned her new wish, and would not take no 
for an answer. At last she even cast herself at his feet, 
and with tears in her eyes begged him to do as she 
asked, since otherwise she never would be happy again. 

Very seriously, his forehead furrowed with wrath, 
the spirit looked down at the kneeling woman. Finally 
he said: “Tulisa, if you insist upon your wish, a higher 
power will compel me to yield to you! Yet I warn 
you that this knowledge will destroy your happiness. 
Not alone will you once more be as poor and wretched 


TULISA 261 

as you were, but besides you will suffer from the re¬ 
proaches of an evil conscience.” 

Yet nothing he said made any impression on Tulisa. 
She obstinately insisted on his granting her wish, and 
loudly repeated her desire to know her husband’s name. 
With a sorrowful face the spirit finally said: “So be 
it, Tulisa, but I cannot grant your wish in this place!” 
and he led her out of the palace to the bank of the river. 
There he stopped and said: “Tulisa, are you deter¬ 
mined to know my name? There is still time for you 
to recall your question.” 

But Tulisa, driven by uncontrollable curiosity, 
threw back her head and answered: “I will and shall 
know it!” 

Then he waded into the river up to his knees, and 
begged her to give up her wish. But she was as ob¬ 
stinate as before, and while she spoke he kept walking 
out further and further into the river. When only his 
head and shoulders were still above water he once 
more, in the tenderest way, begged her to content her¬ 
self with his love and respect and give up a wish 
which, once it was fulfilled, she would regret to her 
dying day. Then, when abandoned by her good angel, 
she still would not yield, he cried out: “My name is 
Basnak-Dau!” 

At the same moment a serpent’s head appeared 
above the surface of the water, gave the stubborn girl 


262 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


a furious glance and disappeared in the stream. There 
stood Tulisa, all alone, and alas, she had on the same 
ragged clothes she had worn when a woodchopper’s 
daughter! In vain she looked for the palace. Every 
path she took led her back to the wretched old hut 
which seemed even more ruinous and decayed than 
before. And there, too, she found her parents again, 
as poor as ever they had been, but softened by their 
life of ease and incapable of exertion. So the whole 
burden of supporting them fell upon Tulisa and be¬ 
sides she had to listen, day in day out, to their re¬ 
proaches and complaints. Yet this was not the worst. 
Now, when she was separated for all time from her 
husband, her longing for him grew till she loved him 
as never before. For the first time she did justice to 
the tireless kindness which she had repaid with such 
rank ingratitude. In her despair she looked for the 
well; but was unable to find any trace of the path 
which had led to it. 

One day as she went about her work with head down¬ 
cast, full of bitter and hopeless thoughts, a little squir¬ 
rel ran across the way. The little creatures played 
about the hut by hundreds, and she would not have 
looked at this one twice, had it not been that the pe¬ 
culiar marking of its fur recalled what once had hap¬ 
pened in the garden of her palace. She noticed that 
the little creature had white stripes, which gleamed 
like silver in the sun. With an indefinite feeling of 


TULISA 


263 

longing and expectation which she could not explain 
to herself, she followed the squirrel, which seemed glad 
to have attracted her attention. It hopped along in 
front of her until it came to a place where a great pile 
of brushwood lay scattered about. Tulisa, much 
pleased, tied the wood up in a bundle and then sat 
down on the soft moss to rest. As she sat there, half 
asleep, she thought she heard a low whispering, and as 
she blinked her eyes, saw two squirrels, seemingly en¬ 
gaged in an earnest talk: 

“Alas,” said one squirrel, “how has our enemy 
chanced to grow so powerful? I left our whole tribe 
free and now, when I return, I find it living in wretch¬ 
edness and slavery I” The other squirrel replied: “Our 
misfortune is due to the fact that our enemy, Sarkasu- 
kis, unexpectedly secured an ally. The mother of 
Basnak-Dau, king of the serpents, found out that her 
son had married a mortal. Now she knew that all the 
power she had lost when Basnak-Dau succeeded his 
father as king would return to her if his girl-wife 
could be led to ask her husband’s name. The treacher¬ 
ous and deceitful Sarkasukis undertook to bring this 
about and, disguised as a banana-dealer, went to Tulisa, 
who easily succumbed to temptation. Basnak-Dau be¬ 
came unhappy and powerless and Sarkasukis, our cruel 
foe, can now indulge his hatred for us.” 

At that moment a third squirrel came along, sat up 
and said: “I feel sorry for Tulisa, for once she saved 


264 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

my life when Sarkasukis already had me in his claws. 
Yet he showed how ungrateful he was. She easily 
could have killed him then and there, but instead she 
took pity on him and let him escape. His thanks for 
her mercy was to rob her of her husband and ruin her.” 

“Is there no way by which she and her husband 
could once more be united?” 

“Yes, there is a way,” replied the first squirrel, as it 
stroked its moustache with its paw, “but it is a very 
dangerous one. Tulisa knows nothing of these events 
which have taken place, hence she cannot act with the 
wisdom necessary to escape all dangers. First of all, 
Tulisa will have to wander toward the east until she 
comes to a broad river. How is she to cross it? For 
she will find no boat on the shore, and the river is in¬ 
habited by snakes which would swallow her if she tried 
to swim across. Yet if she does manage to cross it, she 
will have to find the nest of a bird-of-paradise, take an 
egg from that nest and hatch it out against her own 
breast. Then she must show herself a mistress of dis¬ 
simulation, and ask for service in the old queen’s castle. 
But the old queen is very suspicious and will set her 
the most difficult tasks in order to make her reveal her 
human ancestry. And if Tulisa cannot do these tasks, 
then she will be thrown to the snakes!” 

“I do not know,” the squirrel went on, “whether the 
egg of the bird-of-paradise will protect her against so 
many dangers. Yet—if Tulisa hatches out the egg at 


TULISA 


265 

her breast, the bird—which brings the mortal who 
owns it royal power—will peck out the eyes of the 
green snake wound around the queen’s neck. Then Bas- 
nak-Dau would recover his kingdom and be reconciled 
to his bride. And she—thanks to the bird-of-paradise 
—would then have a right to know his name, since she 
would be a queen herself!” 

It need hardly be said that Tulisa had become wide 
awake while the squirrels were having their talk. 
Quickly she took up her bundle of wood, for she meant 
to lose no time getting under way, risking her life to 
free her beloved. Bringing the bundle home, she told 
her parents that they would find more at the same place 
in order to make a living, and then left the hut, paying 
no attention to the despairing pleas of her father and 
mother, who thought they would never see her again. 

For a long time she wandered toward the east, and 
at last came to the bank of the broad river the squir¬ 
rels had described, out of whose waters the horrible 
black heads of great water-snakes kept popping up. 
There she stood, and did not know what to do. Sud¬ 
denly she saw a squirrel hopping in front of her 
along a path which led into the bushes. Following the 
little creature she soon discovered, hidden in the brush, 
a row of large, earthen pots. And at once the idea 
occurred to her to bind these earthen pots with 
branches and make a raft of them. It took her several 
days to do so, for she was not used to it, but she felt 


266 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


that invisible forces were helping her. At last she ven¬ 
tured to push her raft out into the water, and to her 
surprise it floated as well as the best boat. The squirrel 
leaped gaily aboard as though to encourage her, and 
she did not hesitate to follow it and, lo and behold, the 
raft crossed the water without the snakes being able to 
harm her! In a short time she had gained the oppo¬ 
site shore, and the squirrel, which seemed determined 
to keep her company, jumped ashore first, and she fol¬ 
lowed it along a narrow path which led into the forest. 

Soon she met a bee, and this gave her fresh hope, 
for it is well known that to meet a buzzing honey- 
gatherer means good fortune to human beings. Soon 
the song of birds fell upon her ear, and the squirrel 
leaped gaily toward the sweet tones. Following it into 
a ravine she found herself standing before a tree whose 
leaves glittered like emeralds. In a hollow in the trunk 
a pair of birds of paradise were singing as they built 
their nest. Tulisa looked with delight at the shim¬ 
mering feathers of the little creatures, which sparkled 
and flashed while they flew in and out in the golden 
sunshine. In the course of a few days the mother bird 
laid her first egg, others followed, and the birds were 
so happy that it was a long time before Tulisa could 
make up her mind to rob them of one of their trea¬ 
sures. Not until the fifth day, when the nest was quite 
full, did she take out an egg, put it in her breast and 
cover it with her veil. Then she hastily continued on 


TULISA 267 

her way, guided by the merry little squirrel which ran 
on ahead of her. 

After wandering a long time she at last reached the 
queen’s palace and, calling on all her courage, knocked 
trembling at the door and asked to be taken into the 
queen’s service. At once she was led into a sumptuous 
room where she saw her enemy resting on silken cush¬ 
ions, with the green snake, which looked at Tulisa with 
glowing eyes, wound about her neck. Although the 
queen still seemed young and very beautiful, there was 
something about her which inspired terror. Her eyes 
glowed like serpent eyes, and her long hair fell about 
her head in snaky curls. She looked very different 
from Basnak-Dau. The queen looked at Tulisa in 
silence, and then said she never took any one into her 
service without testing that person’s ability. If she were 
afraid then she had better go on. But if she wished 
to dare the tests, she must remember that any mistake 
would cause her death. Poor Tulisa did not know 
what she would be asked to do, yet she accepted the 
conditions and asked to be tried. The queen signed to 
a servant, and the latter handed Tulisa a crystal vase 
and led her into a large, paved court, surrounded by 
walls. There she told her to gather the fragrance of a 
thousand flowers. Yet, alas, there was not a tree, a 
flower, or a plant of any kind to be seen! Tulisa would 
have despaired had she not hoped that the friendly 
squirrel (she had not yet seen him in the castle) would 


268 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


find a way to help her. She was looking around for 
him when suddenly an enormous swarm of bees came 
flying over the wall. Each bee carried a little bag of 
fragrance, and as it flew by let the contents fall into 
Tulisa’s vase. And the fragrance was so strong and so 
delightful that it filled the whole castle. The doors 
opened, and the vase was placed at the feet of the queen, 
whose harsh features softened as she breathed the deli¬ 
cious odors. 

Tulisa was graciously dismissed and led to a room 
prepared for her, where she soon fell asleep and, for 
the first time since they had parted, dreamed of Bas- 
nak-Dau. The next day a great jarful of flower seed 
was brought her, together with the command to make 
articles of adornment worthy of a queen of them. In 
vain Tulisa looked through the whole jar—there was 
not a single jewel to be seen! But this time the squir¬ 
rels themselves came to her aid. They appeared in 
great numbers, and each took a seed from the jar and 
laid a great pearl in its place. Tulisa strung the pearls, 
and they were of such wonderful beauty that the queen 
herself could find no fault with them and had to dis¬ 
miss her new servant with praise. 

The following day the queen sent for Tulisa and told 
her that she was satisfied with her and that she was ac¬ 
cepted as one of the servants. It would be her duty to 
see that the rooms of the palace were watered with 
sweet-smelling essences and with quantities of the flower 


TULISA 


269 

fragrance she already had brought her. Tulisa bowed 
deeply and withdrew, still fearing that the queen might 
discover who she was. With great care Tulisa attended 
to her duties and her friends, the bees, faithfully re¬ 
newed the supply of fragrance in the crystal vase. In 
the meantime Tulisa kept the egg of the bird-of-para- 
dise warm at her breast, hopefully waiting for the day 
when the little bird-of-paradise would be hatched. 
And one morning the hour came. The young bird-of- 
paradise broke the eggshell, slipped out and, still hid¬ 
den by Tulisa’s veil, in a few moments attained its full 
growth. Then Tulisa hurried to the queen’s room, 
where a slave was just combing her hair. She raised 
her veil and the bird-of-paradise, fluttering to the 
slave’s shoulder, quickly picked out both the green 
snake’s eyes, as it lay around the queen’s neck. 

Then the walls of the castle shook, the air grew dark 
and on the floor of the palace the evil Sarkasukis was 
suddenly revealed in the shape of a clumsy, misshaped 
demon! And through the great portal of the hall, 
spirits, surrounded by jubilant squirrels and faithful 
serpents, led in the rightful ruler, Basnak-Dau. In 
the twinkling of an eye Tulisa’s simple dress turned 
into royal robes and a sparkling crown gleamed on her 
forehead. Now she was truly a fit bride for one of the 
mightiest of those spirits who rule the lands invisible 
to men. 

The wicked queen mother had sunk into the earth, 


2 7 o WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

and Sarkasukis was dragged out to banishment for her 
crimes, while Basnak-Dau and his faithful Tulisa held 
each other clasped, never to part again. The whole 
castle resounded with joy and merriment, yet nowhere 
was there greater joy than in the dwelling of Nur-Singh 
and his wife. For at the moment Tulisa and her hus¬ 
band were once more reunited, a great dish of fragrant 
rice and delicious fruit took the place of the gray meal 
porridge on their table. Then they knew that their 
daughter had attained her aim and that Basnak-Dau 
had regained his power. 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 
or 

The Tale of Saladin of Bagdad and the 
Princess Morgana 

L ONG, long years ago, the Caliph Haroun A1 
Raschid, one of the mightiest, richest and also 
wisest princes who ever sat on a throne, ruled over 
Bagdad. He was loved and honored as well by the 
great of the land as by the least of his subjects. And, 
in addition, the Prophet—blessed be his name!—had 
given him wise and righteous servants such as his 
Grand Vizier, Abdallah, to whom the Caliph might 
safely entrust the entire governance of his empire. A 
just judge, he ever sought to add to his master’s treas¬ 
ures in an honest way, hence the Caliph loved him as 
a brother and always wished to have him about. They 
always worked or played chess together, and even when 
the Caliph rode a-hunting his Vizier had to accompany 
him. 

Now in his wisdom, the Caliph had formed the 
habit of wandering through the streets and bazaars of 
Bagdad in disguise. In this way he discovered many 
things which otherwise never might have come to light, 
for on these expeditions he heard the grievances of his 
271 


272 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

subjects and could investigate them, and if they were 
just, could remove the cause of complaint. He also 
could sit in the courts and see whether the judges gave 
judgment without regard for rank or person. But in 
most cases he wandered through the streets with his 
Grand Vizier, Abdallah, in the dead of night, often 
preventing robberies and other wrongdoing. For at 
such times he sought out the poorest and most distant 
quarters of the city, and entered the wretched huts of 
the very poor to aid them with money or with good 
advice. 

One evening he set forth from his palace with Ab¬ 
dallah, as was his habit, and strolled along the banks 
of the Tigris, enjoying the beauty of the night. The 
Caliph was in good spirits and began to talk with his 
companion about the difference in the fate of men, how 
fortune smiled on some and frowned on others, and 
how, day by day, hopes and wishes were born in every 
human heart, though but few of them ever were real¬ 
ized. 

“Yes,” answered the Vizier, Abdallah, “what would 
we not see if we could behold the many different 
thoughts and wishes of the thousands, who toss restlessly 
on their couches, and often see all their hopes disap¬ 
pointed, reflected in a great mirror.” 

While they talked in this fashion the two men had 
come to one of the most wretched quarters of Bagdad. 
There they followed the windings of a narrow little 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


273 


alley and after a number of turns found themselves in 
a section of the town altogether unknown to them. 
Suddenly the Caliph stopped: from a side street 
sounded lamentable cries, as though some person were 
being beaten or otherwise illtreated. The Vizier also 
heard the cries and they were so strange and continuous 
that both were induced to follow them. To this end 
they entered a very narrow, dirty little street which 
led them to an old, ruinous, vaulted portal which gave 
on a small square, sinister and melancholy in appear¬ 
ance. The houses which surrounded it for the main 
part lay in ruins and had neither doors nor windows. 
One could look into most of them and see that grass 
and weeds were growing foot high in the rooms and 
passages where human beings once had lived. The 
roofs of most of the buildings had fallen in and great 
trees—plantains, sycamores, or palms—rose into the 
air above the bare walls, a sad proof that none had 
lived in them for a generation or more. 

There was but one house in the whole square, owing 
to a faint gleam of light that came through a broken 
shutter, which showed that it was inhabited. Yet, to¬ 
gether with the friendly gleam of light, there came 
from within those cries of sorrow which had attracted 
the Caliph and his companion. Though the house had 
fallen into decay like others in the square, once upon a 
time it must have presented a much better appearance 
than those about it, for it had been built of stone, and a 


274 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

verse from the Koran had been graven above the door¬ 
way, a decoration found only on the houses of people 
of means. Here, too, the tooth of time, however, had 
partly gnawed away and blackened the walls. The 
lettered stone was weather-beaten, the characters had 
become unreadable and doors and windows seemed 
ready to fall apart. 

From time to time the sorrowful cries already heard 
resounded within the house and as the Caliph and his 
companion drew nearer they could hear the words 
which accompanied them: 

“Alas!” cried the voice from within, “give me food 
and drink! I am devoured by hunger and thirst. Have 
I not already shrunk almost to a skeleton? How can I 
spend four nights without nourishment of any kind and 
still live! Oh, oh! Yet I have become hardened to 
my daily portion of a hundred blows with the rod, so 
at least give me something to drink!” 

The voice which painfully uttered these strange 
words seemed to be that of a young man. It was so 
faint and weak, however, that it seemed as though the 
illtreatment he described was real. Now another voice, 
seemingly from the mouth of an older man and not 
so pitiful answered: “Ah, master, if only you would 
listen to reason, and once more live like other human 
beings! Of what use are the torments you inflict on 
yourself? By the beard of the Prophet, I grieve to say 
it, but it is my duty as an old servant. For the thou- 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


275 


sandth time I repeat that your course of action is well- 
nigh insane, and that if you do not cease torturing your¬ 
self needlessly you will surely end your days in a mad¬ 
house. Here is good food and a jug of sherbert. Eat 
and drink and return to mankind once more; of what 
use are all your wild fancies!” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the other, with his hoarse, power¬ 
less voice and gnashed his teeth so that it could be 
heard outside. “That is the way you always act, un¬ 
faithful servant! Go to Gehenna with your food and 
drink! I shall hunger, aye, that I shall, and I also will 
be beaten, as long as I choose!” 

“Have your way, so far as I am concerned,” re¬ 
plied the other. “If you insist on starving yourself to 
death, then in Allah’s name thrust food and drink from 
you! The Prophet knows it is not my fault. But I 
tell you here and now that I will not raise the cudgel 
again to beat you.” 

“Alas, alas,” wailed the first speaker, “faithless, dis¬ 
honest servant! Did you not put your own hand in my 
father’s hand when he lay dying, and promise to take 
care of me and not to leave me? And do you not know 
for whose sake I endure all these torments? And now 
all is to be in vain. Alas, you are a man of little faith, 
an oath-breaker who forgets his given word! I will 
be beaten and I will starve! There, take the stick! I 
will bear my beating patiently!” 

Outside the Caliph and his Vizier did not know 


276 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

what to make of this strange conversation. Each looked 
at the other in astonishment, and Abdallah put his hand 
to his turban and tweaked his nose, for he thought he 
must be dreaming. But the Caliph now seized his com¬ 
panion’s hand and made a sign for him to be silent, 
for the old man’s voice was once more heard in the 
house as he said tearfully: “Allah, Allah, had I only 
died myself when his father did! Yet, the Prophet, 
who reads all hearts, can see that I am not to blame for 
all this madness!” 

All was still for a few moments; then the cries of 
pain began again, together with a sound like that heard 
when a man is beaten with a stick. And between blows 
they occasionally heard the words: “Alas, alas, that 
lovely sight! O those glowing eyes! That raven black 
hair! May the Prophet have mercy on me and aid 
me!” 

The Caliph had no wish to listen any longer to this 
unnatural dialogue. He softly ordered his Vizier to 
make note of the house, and both then left the sinister 
spot, the cries of the wretched man echoing in their 
ears for some time. 

The following morning the Grand Vizier, at the 
Caliph’s command, took with him a couple of trusty 
servants, to go to the quarter of the town and find the 
house outside which they had eavesdropped the night 
before. They soon found it and listened, but all was 
silent within. They knocked at the door again and 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


2 77 


again, but in vain. Then they rapped on the locked 
shutters and at last heard some one in the room move. 
Then an inner door was opened, footsteps approached 
the outer one, and the Grand Vizier heard the voice 
of the old man who asked through a crack what was 
wanted. 

“Open in the name of the Caliph!” cried Abdallah, 
outside, and, as the old man seemed to hesitate, he added: 
“Open at once or by the order of the Caliph, Haroun 
A1 Raschid, I will break down the door and in addi¬ 
tion punish you severely for your disobedience!” 

Then the door was slowly opened and the figure of 
a wretchedly clad old man appeared. He placed his 
hand on breast and forehead and humbly asked: “What 
does my lord, the Caliph, please to command?” 

Abdallah, entering the house with his two compan¬ 
ions, turned at once to the room from which the strange 
dialogue of the evening before had come. At first the 
old man barred the way, yet when his glance fell on 
the armed servants, he uttered a deep sigh, and opened 
the door of the apartment. 

Though poorly furnished, it still bore traces of for¬ 
mer luxury. The walls were adorned with broken 
cabinets of gilded wood, and the ceiling covered with 
an ancient Persian shawl, as is often the case in Oriental 
houses. The shutters of the window were closed, so 
that a divan in one corner, on which lay a young man, 
was hardly visible. But by chance the sun now cast a 


278 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

beam into the chamber through a crack in the shutter, 
and the Grand Vizier was able to examine the young 
man’s features more closely. Looking into that pale, 
drawn face, the Vizier could not for a moment doubt 
that its owner had uttered the laments of the evening 
past. The youth seemed to be about twenty years of 
age, and he paid no attention to those who had entered 
the room. His eyes were closed, his lips, shadowed by 
a slight black beard, were pressed together and, aside 
from its dreadful thinness and pallor, his head, cov¬ 
ered with heavy black hair, was extraordinarily hand¬ 
some. His torn clothing showed plainly that the young 
man had once been in better circumstances. In another 
corner of the room lay a great heap of books, together 
with broken vessels of glass and curious instruments 
such as the magicians used in olden days. 

After the Grand Vizier had hastily glanced over the 
apartment, he asked the old man, who had remained 
respectfully at the door, who the youth might be. The 
ancient anxiously signed for him to keep silence, and 
drew the Grand Vizier out of the room with him. 

Once outside, he fervently begged him not to try to 
discover his secrets; but Abdallah told the old man 
that the Caliph had commanded that he be brought be¬ 
fore him, in order to explain what had happened in the 
house the night before. 

When the old servant heard the Caliph’s name, and 
that he was about to be brought before him, he fell on 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


279 


his knees and swore by Allah and the Prophet that he 
was innocent of all wrongdoing and that, in fact, he 
would rather be punished than live any longer in that 
house. “However,” he added, “I cannot leave my 
young master, and if you throw me, who am innocent, 
into prison, then your Lordship must take care of him!” 

The Grand Vizier promised him that there was no 
question of punishment. All he had to do was to tell 
the Caliph the truth and nothing but the truth, and the 
latter would decide what had best be done in his own 
and his young master’s case. After this conversation, 
the old man returned to the room and exchanged a few 
words with the young man, then followed the Grand 
Vizier who left one of his servants to guard the house. 

When they reached the Caliph’s palace, they were 
at once admitted to his presence, in order that the 
strange dialogue which Haroun A 1 Raschid and his 
Vizier had heard the preceding night might be ex¬ 
plained. The old man bowed to the earth before the 
Caliph and said: 

“Commander of the Faithful, only the truth may be 
spoken to your exalted ear! And I shall tell you truth¬ 
fully and without hiding anything, the story of my 
young master, for no follower of the Prophet ever 
found himself in a more unhappy situation. Know 
then, O lord, that a few years ago a wise and learned 
man named Abn el Deri, of whom your Highness may 
have heard, lived in that house to whose broken door 


280 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


the Prophet probably led you for our good. Abn el 
Deri could read the old mysterious books of the ma- 
gians and sorcerers, and knew how to decipher the past 
and the present. I was his servant, O Master, and ac¬ 
companied him on all the journeys he used to make to 
all parts of the world in former years. How often we 
crossed the desert from one end to the other; there is 
scarce one of the larger oases we did not visit. We 
also saw the seas whose waters lave our sands on every 
side. Yet my master did not undertake these long jour¬ 
neys in order to profit by the buying and selling of 
valuable goods. Instead, in all the larger and smaller 
towns we visited, we met with wise and learned men 
with whom he eagerly discussed the lore of the stars, 
and either taught them or learned from them, as the 
case might be. 

“Ah, Master, it was a joy to travel for days and 
weeks through the lonely desert with Abn el Deri. 
Never was there a man who could tell such charming 
and interesting tales as he could. He could talk’for 
days, while all listened with pleasure. Yet no matter 
how talkative and entertaining he might be on his 
travels, there were moments when this thoughts were 
turned inward, and he was very quiet. These were the 
hours when, far on the horizon of the desert, the Fata 
Morgana showed herself. Then he became thought¬ 
ful, and sometimes he would spend hours staring at the 
magic trees, the delicate houses and the gleaming wa- 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


281 


ters which the phantom of the desert conjures up before 
the wanderer’s eye. Often I tried to speak to him at 
such times, but he would only make a sign with his 
hand for me to keep silence. Then, as a rule, he would 
take one of his mysterious books, containing all sorts 
of curious signs, up before him on his camel, and would 
read it eagerly, while he seemed to compare the signs 
in the book with the figures of the Fata Morgana. 

“Once, after such a day, we lay beneath our tents in 
the evening and Abn el Deri was even more amiable 
than usual. This made me bold, and, driven by curios¬ 
ity, I asked him why he always stared so eagerly at the 
phantom gardens of the desert and seemed to enjoy 
seeing them, while their sight was repulsive and mys¬ 
terious to every other Mohammedan. 

“Then my master laughed and said: ‘Listen, Ismael,’ 
—for that is my name, O Commander of the Faith¬ 
ful !—‘you long have been a faithful servant to me, and 
therefore I will pardon your curiosity. More than 
that, I shall tell you as much as you may be able to 
understand regarding what many wise and learned 
men before me have thought about the phantom of the 
desert, and what I think of it. You yourself, espe¬ 
cially on very hot days, when the desert stretches end¬ 
lessly before us, have noticed that the sand on the edge 
of the horizon suddenly seems to rise slowly into the 
air. Hills raise themselves up and heavy yellow 
clouds slowly move above their peaks. There are 


282 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


swells and billows like those of a distant sea, and at 
times a ray of light gleams through them, as though 
the sun were flinging a slender beam on the water 
through thick, black clouds. The movement of the 
hills and the yellow clouds increases. At first they 
seem to be closely piled together, then they shred off 
in long, thin streamers, flutter skyward and, moving 
slowly, rise above the earth like a curtain to charm the 
dazzled, delighted eye by showing it a rich, beautiful 
countryside, where before it saw nothing but yellow 
hills of sand. Round about you the hot sands burn, 
the sun sends down glowing rays. Men and horses 
move on in silence through the heat, and those who be¬ 
hold it are all the more affected by the sight of the 
Fata Morgana, with its shady groves of palm trees, its 
cool, plashing waters, and its bright, airy country 
houses. At the sight the traveler draws his burnous 
over his head and calls on the Prophet as he looks the 
other way. He must not take the road to those rustling 
palms, for he would find only sand and certain death 
at its end. 

“ ‘But this is not the fault of the Fata Morgana. She 
does not wish to lead any man astray and is as inno¬ 
cent of wrongdoing as an island in distant seas, which 
the seaman cannot reach because he has no guiding 
compass. Yet it is possible for a man of courage to 
reach that happy isle in the sand which, more fruitful 
and blooming than Paradise itself, offers the greatest of 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 283 

rewards to him who attains it. Yes, Ismael,’ continued 
my master, ‘I know you too well to think you will not 
believe me when I tell you that the Fata Morgana is 
more than a mere phantom. In that lovely oasis reigns 
the Princess Morgana, a woman so beautiful that there 
is not another like her on earth. No mortal ever has 
seen her face. Yet my books prove that a powerful 
magician once was able to draw her picture, a picture, 
however, which has totally disappeared in the course 
of time. And now, to tell you the whole truth, the end 
and object of all my travels is to find this dangerous 
picture—dangerous because the heart of the man who 
sees it will be seized with a fatal love and longing and 
he will be able to think of nothing else.’ 

“Thus, to my great astonishment, spoke my master, 
and I could not help but shake my head when I thought 
of the time and money he had flung away searching 
for the magic picture. Not long after this conversa¬ 
tion we went with a caravan to Damascus and Palmyra, 
and suffered unspeakable hardships on our journey. 
Surprised by a sandstorm, which destroyed the greater 
part of the caravan, we owed our escape only to the 
swiftness of our horses. Ah, Lord of the World, what 
a terrible sight—a caravan, men and beasts, fleeing in 
deadly fear of the destruction rushing after them! 
Camels and horses overdo themselves and, covered 
with foam, run across the sands until they drop sud¬ 
denly to rise no more. Quite near us, during our wild 


284 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

flight, we saw for some time a beautiful woman racing 
along on a blooded Arabian steed. She held a tiny 
baby wrapped in her shawl, and through all the tumult 
and roaring of the sand waves, she had eyes only for 
the child. Whenever the storm would fling one sand 
cloud over us in advance of the others, she would cover 
it with her body. My master was touched by the sight 
of this noble mother, and we kept as close to her as 
possible, in order to help her if the need arose. Yet 
the Prophet had not willed that she was to survive the 
storm. Suddenly her horse fell, unfortunately at the 
moment when the sand was at our very heels. Then 
the woman held up her child with a pleading gesture 
and had only strength enough to call ‘Save it, save it!’ 

“Of course we reined in our horses, in spite of the 
danger; I hastily seized the babe, and Abn el Deri 
tried to help the woman. But she only flung her veil 
over her head, pointed to the sand storm sweeping 
down on us and begged us in Allah’s and the Prophet’s 
name to flee and save her child. O Master, what a 
terrible sight it was! The cloud of sand swept up to 
our feet like a giant wall of fire and curved above our 
heads like the waves in a stormy sea when, one piling 
upon the other, they fling themselves far up upon the 
shore. ‘Flee, flee,’ cried the woman, ‘and save my 
child!’ and as she said this our horses, as well aware of 
the danger as ourselves, gathered themselves together 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 285 

and galloped off in great bounds. Behind us the sand 
wave broke and covered the unfortunate woman. 

“Thanks to the Prophet’s mercy we escaped. And 
Abn el Deri looked upon the child—it was a boy— 
which Allah so unexpectedly had given him as his very 
own, and had him educated with the greatest care. 
Yet he did not give up his continual journeys, and the 
older he grew the more eagerly he searched for the 
vanished picture of which he had told me. Thus old 
age stole upon us, and the last journey we made to¬ 
gether was to an oasis lying far beyond Palmyra, in 
which dwelt an exceedingly wise and learned man. 
Alas, it was indeed our last journey, for there, after 
searching for years, my master at last found what he 
had sought so long, the picture of the Princess Mor¬ 
gana! Yet of what use was it to him now. His days 
on earth were numbered, and the years and strength 
were lacking for him to try to reach that happy island 
which he so long had hoped to find. So we returned 
again to Bagdad, and here we lived in retirement and 
poverty, for my master’s fortune had been so exhausted 
by his many journeys that the little he still possessed 
was barely enough to last him the rest of his days. 
Finally, the hour of his departure from earth drew 
near, and when it came I stood at his bedside, together 
with his adopted son, now a handsome youth. First 
he advised the latter to do good and live righteously 


286 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


in the sight of Allah and his Prophet. Then he handed 
him an amulet which his unhappy mother had hung 
about his neck before her death in the desert, gave him 
his blessing, and bade him leave the room for a few mo¬ 
ments, as he still had a message to give me. 

“ ‘Ismael,’ he said, when we were alone, ‘a few min¬ 
utes more and you will have lost your master and my 
son his father. Promise me to aid him as best you can 
out of your long years of experience!’ This I prom¬ 
ised to do, giving him my hand on it, and then he made 
me vow never to look at the picture he gave me myself, 
nor to permit his son to see it. ‘For the mortal who 
sees it,’ he said, ‘is fated to die slowly of love and long¬ 
ing!’ With that he died. 

“I was now alone with the young man, and Abn el 
Deri had not left much behind him. Chests and coffers 
were empty, and our sole means of existence were some 
old weapons, richly adorned with jewels and gold, 
which I at once carried to the bazaar to sell. Our 
adopted son, to whom we had given the name of Sala- 
din, was an impulsive, fiery, wide-awake youth. Abn 
el Deri had caused him to be taught by the best teach¬ 
ers, and besides his book knowledge he knew how to 
handle the lance and manage a horse. Yet these ex¬ 
pensive habits were dropped at Abn el Deri’s death. 
What were we to do? The horse which young Sala- 
din owned soon had to be sold, as well as the handsome 
garments in which he had shone like some young pasha. 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 287 

Often, O lord, I tried to find some occupation for my 
young master, by means of which he could earn his 
bread in a dignified manner! I recommended him 
to the captain of the bodyguard, asking that the hand¬ 
some and dexterous young man be given a place among 
the horsemen. But since I had no powerful protectors, 
and not even the necessary horse and armor with which 
to fit him out, I was sent away everywhere. Alas, my 
lord, those were sad days! Then I tried to induce 
young Saladin to accept a more menial position, and at 
last he promised to take a place as a servant in a shop. 
Yet in vain had I taken the trouble to bend his proud 
spirit, for I could not even obtain a position of this 
kind for him. Though when I first talked to them the 
old merchants might have been willing to take him on, 
they no sooner learned that he was the son of Abn el 
Deri, the magician and conjurer of devils, than they 
turned us out of doors. 

“By this time the money we had obtained by the sale 
of our arms had all been used up, and in vain I searched 
every nook and corner of the house, and every chest 
and box in order to discover some hidden object of 
value. I even unlocked the small iron casket in which 
the magic picture was kept, and which I had never 
examined. But all it contained was the picture, 
wrapped in a silken case. To my shame I must admit 
that while I was so doing my curiosity got the better of 
me, and I was tempted to press the steel button which 


288 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


closed the case. Fortunately, at that very moment my 
old master’s voice sounded in my ear, and I did not do 
so. As ill luck would have it, however, I forgot to lock 
the iron casket again, and then left the house to try 
and borrow money from an old friend. 

“No sooner had I left the house than Saladin re¬ 
turned. He probably had noticed, long ago, that the 
small casket was always locked. At any rate, he took 
advantage of my absence, drew out the silk case con¬ 
taining the picture and then, O Commander of the 
Faithful, the unhappy young man looked at it! 

“What then happened I do not know. But when I 
returned, I found him on his couch, a prey to the wild¬ 
est fantasies of fever. It was impossible to take the 
picture case which he held in his hand from him. The 
wild remarks he uttered in his delirium showed that 
he had seen the picture, and that my old master’s say¬ 
ing, that the mortal who saw it would fall ill of love 
and longing, was true. For weeks Saladin lay on his 
couch, devoured by this burning fever, and speaking 
only in the wildest and most rambling manner. Usu¬ 
ally he fancied he was in the sandy desert, and saw the 
phantom of the Fata Morgana gleaming in the far dis¬ 
tance. Then he would describe it as Abn el Deri used 
to, in the richest and most glowing colors, as a green 
island full of love and delight. Alas, in all these 
dreams, the unfortunate picture played a leading part, 
for it seemed to float before him everywhere, and he 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 289 

followed after it, across snow-covered mountains, 
stormy seas and burning desert sands! 

“At last the force of the fever abated, and I thought 
that now poor Saladin would return to reason, and 
memory of the picture would fade from his mind. 
But as his body grew stronger, his heart and mind 
seemed to grow more ill. When for the first time after 
his illness of months he recognized me and spoke sensi¬ 
bly to me as I sat by his couch he showed me the picture 
case with delight, and said that at last he had found 
something to which he would devote his entire life— 
the discovery of the picture’s original! In vain I told 
him that the picture must be a work of the painter’s 
imagination, that it did not represent any living being. 
He only smiled and answered in a feeble tone of voice: 

“ l O Ismael, your lack of faith wounds me! I assure 
you that this is the picture of the Princess Morgana, 
who rules an oasis fair as Paradise far off in the desert. 
Well do I know that no mortal ever has been fortunate 
enough to reach that oasis and see the princess! Yet 
why should I not be the one whom Allah has chosen to 
do so? I shall succeed, Ismael, for already I have often 
traveled there in the deliriums of my fever. True, it 
was a terrible and toilsome journey, and the caravan 
which I had joined was made up of strange and mys¬ 
terious figures, yet I know I shall find and reach that 
desert island and see the Princess and be near her!’ 

“At first I thought, hearing him speak in this manner, 


290 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

that his fever had not yet left him, and that he soon 
would forget these strange fancies. But I was mistaken. 
Saladin slowly grew well again, but he had made up 
his mind to seek the Princess Morgana, as he called the 
picture. In fact, in his delirium, he had thought out 
something which bordered on madness, in order, so he 
said, to accustom his body to the tremendous hardships 
to which his journey would expose him. For days at a 
time, in spite of all my objections, he would touch 
neither food nor drink, to grow used to hunger and 
thirst. In fact, he would fly into a terrible rage when 
I told him how foolishly he was acting, and would plead 
with me and coax me until I did as he wished. Often 
he would go hungry for three or four days and, besides, 
compel me to beat him with a stick, so that he would 
be hardened to endure the illtreatment of any who 
might wish to make him give up the aim he had in 
view. How I suffered from this madness, O lord, is 
easy to imagine! Yet what could a poor old man like 
myself do. Though I made up my mind not to do his 
will, I always gave in because of his pitiful com¬ 
plaints about my faithlessness, as he called it. And 
his wails that I would not help him gain what was 
dearest in all the world to him were even more terrible 
to me than the illtreatment he demanded. When I 
sometimes asked him when and with whose aid he ex¬ 
pected to undertake his journey, he would smile and 
say that fate, which had put the Princess Morgana’s 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


291 

picture into his hand, would provide him with the 
means to seek her when the proper time arrived. 

“This is the story of old Abn el Deri and his adopted 
son, O Commander of the Faithful, and, by the beard 
of the Prophet, I have told it to you without conceal¬ 
ing a thing! You yourself heard him during the night 
just passed, when he was tormented by his madness, 
and when I had to beat him. And now command in 
your wisdom what is to be done with us.” 

The Caliph as well as his Grand Vizier had listened 
to this strange tale with great attention, and now that 
it was ended, sat in silence and did not know what to 
make of it. “Well,” remarked the Caliph, “what do 
you say, Abdallah? Shall we send for this mysterious 
picture and dare the danger of looking at it?” 

“O lord,” said Ismael hastily, after a low salaam, 
“O lord, do not let your wisdom lead you to such a 
fateful resolve! Believe me, the evil magic cast out 
by that picture would make you unhappy for the rest 
of your life!” 

“It is, in truth, a strange tale,” said the Grand 
Vizier, “and if I may give your Highness a bit of ad¬ 
vice which will please your generosity of spirit, how 
would it be to provide this unhappy young man with 
the means necessary to wander through the desert with 
a caravan for the space of a year? Perhaps the Prophet 
would be merciful and his madness would leave him.” 

“You are right,” replied the Caliph; “make the nec- 


292 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

essary preparations, and see to it that the traveler 
wants for nothing. Send him off with one of the great 
caravans which leave shortly for Palmyra, and order 
him to return to Bagdad in a year’s time, when I will 
care for him further.” 

Ismael flung himself at the Caliph’s feet and, while 
stammering his thanks for the high favor shown them, 
appealed to his princely generosity and prayed that he 
might be granted the favor of accompanying his young 
master, a favor which the Caliph gladly granted. 
Then Haroun A 1 Raschid ordered that young Saladin 
be brought before him when he had been equipped 
for his journey and dismissed the old servant, who hur¬ 
ried back to his home trembling with joy, where his 
glad message gave new life to his master. 

Saladin lay stretched out on his couch, and at first 
listened without much interest when his servant told 
him how he had been brought into the Caliph’s pres¬ 
ence and been obliged to tell him all about Abn el 
Deri. But when Ismael came to speak of the Caliph’s 
generosity in providing the means for a journey into 
the desert, the young man suddenly sat up in bed and, 
his eyes sparkling, said: “Now you see, Ismael, that 
my dreams did not lie! The time has come, for the 
Prophet has unexpectedly aided me to make the jour¬ 
ney for which my heart has longed, and on which I 
shall find what I seek!” 

The very next day several chests filled with hand- 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


293 


some articles of apparel, with weapons and provisions 
of all sorts were brought to Saladin’s house. The 
liberal Caliph also sent him several valuable steeds and 
some black slaves, who were to accompany the young 
man on his travels. And Saladin, from the moment 
Ismael had brought the news of the Caliph’s princely 
kindness, had been a man transformed. In a few days 
no one looking at him would have suspected that he 
had been ill for months, and during that time suffered 
the greatest hardship and illtreatment. The mere 
thought that the inmost wish of his soul was to come 
true poured new life into his veins, the color once more 
showed in his cheeks, his eyes again glowed keenly 
beneath his black brows like the glowing sun when, 
surrounded by clouds, it sinks behind the horizon at 
evening. An hour after the old servant’s return from 
the palace, he had left his couch, and when the Caliph’s 
presents arrived, he chose among them a rich and hand¬ 
some robe, mounted one of the blooded Persian steeds 
and, followed by Ismael, rode through the streets and 
bazaars to the Caliph’s palace. 

As he rode by, the people in the street were so daz¬ 
zled by his tall, handsome figure, his splendid horse¬ 
manship, and his whole appearance, that they respect¬ 
fully made way for him, and greeted him like some 
powerful emir . The merchants in the bazaars looked 
after him in astonishment, and one asked the other who 
the foreign prince might be. Thus he reached the 


294 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

Caliph’s palace, where the guards greeted him and 
Ismael with much deference, and allowed them to 
enter the interior of the castle without delay. There 
several pages ran up to hold Saladin’s stirrup and con¬ 
duct him, together with his old servant, to the Caliph’s 
chambers, where the latter received them in company 
with the Grand Vizier, Abdallah. 

Haroun A1 Raschid regarded the young man who 
salaamed low before him with smiling satisfaction, 
and once more repeated the promises he already had 
made old Ismael. 

“Commander of the Faithful,” answered Saladin, 
“in your goodness and generosity you have appeared 
to my poor, abandoned self like an angel from heaven, 
and the Prophet will reward you in accordance! How 
can I thank you for the immeasurable gift you have 
given me? It makes it possible for me to find what I 
so long have sought and, if it be Allah’s will, to attain 
happiness!” 

The Caliph, whose first thought had been to talk 
Saladin out of his fancies, saw from his words that his 
mind was unalterably fixed and could not be changed, 
and therefore decided it would be wiser not to try to 
do so. So he dismissed him with his best wishes and 
Saladin, intoxicated with joy, returned to his own 
home. 

The inhabitants of Bagdad, whose curiosity had 
been excited by the appearance of the foreign prince, 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


295 


for such they considered Saladin, tried in every way 
to discover who the young man really might be. No 
sooner, however, did they learn that he was the son of 
the old magician, Abn el Deri, whom the Caliph had 
presented with the equipment and means to undertake 
a long journey, than they declared the story of the pic¬ 
ture an invention of the old rascal, Ismael, to cheat the 
Commander of the Faithful out of a goodly sum of 
money. Alas, those evil-thinking people only re¬ 
gretted that the old man had been so successful! 

A few days later the caravan which the young man 
and his servant had joined set out by way of Cairo to 
Palmyra, and the people in the bazaars laughed as 
they said one to the other: “See that clever rascal 
Ismael riding off with the fruit of his robbery!” 

As usually is the case with malicious gossip and 
false report, these stories increased hour by hour, and 
were added to in every way until finally they seemed 
so easy to believe that even the most level-headed 
could not make out whether they were true or not. 
That old Ismael had deceived the Caliph was accepted 
by every one as a fact. “Behold,” they said to one an¬ 
other, “old Abn el Deri never had a son! Who knows 
where old Ismael found this young man, and how he 
may have trained him for his own ends!” “It seems 
to me,” said another, “that I already have seen that 
young teller of untruths somewhere else.” “Right,” 
answered a third, “it was not long ago that I saw a 


296 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

young fellow in the barber’s booth of the great cara¬ 
vanserai who looked as much like Saladin as one egg 
does like another.” “Aha,” cried all the rest, “so that 
is it! He is the man! Alas, our poor, good Caliph!” 

Before long Haroun A1 Raschid learned of these 
rumors through his Grand Vizier, and though at first 
he refused to believe them, he was induced by Abdal¬ 
lah’s arguments to listen to the owner of the barber’s 
booth in question. The latter, in reply to the Caliph’s 
inquiries about the young man, answered with a sly 
smile: “Commander of the Faithful, it is human to 
err, and the Prophet is my witness that I do not like 
to speak ill of others! Yet with regard to that young 
man, I could state under oath that until a few weeks 
past he cleaned and polished my basins and razors. It 
is true that later, when I once more saw him, he looked 
altogether different, but that was due to the costly gar¬ 
ments and the horse your Highness gave him.” 

The Caliph, for all he did not like to think he had 
been cheated in such a way, could not help but believe 
the old barber had told him the truth, and afterwards 
said to his Grand Vizier, with a laugh: “Listen, Abdal¬ 
lah, in the future we must be more careful and let 
people wail and lament in their houses without paying 
attention to them!” 

Abdallah shrugged his shoulders and answered: “In 
fact, it was a clever bit of rascality.” 

Meanwhile the caravan which Saladin and Ismael 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


297 


had joined quietly moved along through the desert, 
the two pilgrims ignorant of the falsehoods which had 
destroyed the young man’s reputation behind his back. 
Saladin was happy to have taken the first step that 
would lead him nearer the original of his picture, and 
to be where some unforeseen stroke of good fortune 
might bring him to the goal of his wishes. Ismael, on 
the other hand, was glad to give up his quiet life in 
Bagdad, and to wander across the desert. It seemed 
to him that he had grown years younger, and that he 
once more was riding beside his old master Abn el 
Deri. 

The caravan was a very large one and, since it car¬ 
ried with it much gold and silver, was provided with 
a great escort of armed horsemen to protect goods and 
people against Bedouin surprise attacks. No sooner 
had a few days passed, than daring robbers could be 
glimpsed at a distance from the caravan, evidently 
trying to find out how well protected it might be. At¬ 
tacks, too, were at times made on small sections of the 
caravan which had remained too far in the rear when 
it set out in the morning; the loaded camels were 
driven off and the men who guarded them cut down if 
they offered resistance. 

But the main body of the caravan continued on its 
way without mishap, and with it Saladin. At first the 
journey through the desert, the heat of the sun and the 
sand had greatly troubled him. But he soon became 


298 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

used to it, and could realize the beauty and sublimity 
paired with the silence and lifelessness of the tremen¬ 
dous sandy plain. And though at times the torrid heat 
of the sun made him feel faint, he refreshed himself 
with the thought of the Fata Morgana, which he never 
had seen, and to which he looked forward so ardently. 
At last, one beautiful evening, when the sun had 
burned all day long over the horsemen with unusual 
heat, the phantom of the desert was developed out of 
the blue mists which seemed to rise on the far horizon 
of the desert. The last rays of the sinking sun trem¬ 
bled and glowed on the magic buildings, the unattain¬ 
able forests and the sparkling waters which gushed 
forth, cooling and refreshing, without ever having 
been tasted by mortal tongue. Filled with delight, 
Saladin sat his horse and his glowing eyes hung on the 
magic vision which, little by little, paled until it had 
completely disappeared. 

As the two travelers lay beneath their tent that 
night, the young man said to his servant: “Ah, Ismael, 
I have made exact note of the direction in which the 
oasis lies we saw this evening, over which the Princess 
Morgana rules! Therefore let us set out now to find 
it. Who knows, we may reach it before the dawn!” 

“May the Prophet forbid!” answered Ismael with a 
sad smile. “Dear master, you have strange ideas. Our 
very journey has been undertaken to find the original 
of a picture which probably does not exist. That is 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


299 


laughable in itself. But the proposal you have just 
made, to leave the caravan and ride out haphazard into 
the desert, borders on madness. Believe me, the phan¬ 
tom of the desert, which conjured up those beautiful 
buildings, those palms and playing fountains, will con¬ 
tinue to escape you, for when you take one step to¬ 
ward the Fata Morgana it moves back ten.” 

“Then tell me,” answered Saladin, out of sorts, “how 
I am to attain my aim and bring it to the successful 
ending, on which the peace and happiness of my whole 
life depends? Did you think this journey through the 
desert would change my thoughts, and erase the pic¬ 
ture I have seen from my heart?” 

“That is what I had hoped, dear master,” replied 
Ismael. “I had hoped you would have given up your 
visions, and that when we returned to Bagdad in a 
year’s time you would smile at the thought of these 
days as at some strange dream.” 

Saladin shook his head and lay down. Such conver¬ 
sations often took place between the two, but the more 
Ismael tried to win his master back to reason, the less 
successful were his efforts. Saladin carefully guarded 
the picture, and many an hour when he was alone 
would open the case and delight himself with the sight 
of the beautiful face it showed. For nothing in heaven 
or on earth could compare with it in beauty. It showed 
a maiden’s slender figure, leaning against a fountain 
whose clear, transparent jet rose high in the air. Her 


3 oo WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

head was lowered in thought, so that only the radiant 
brow and half-concealed eyes were visible. Since this 
alone was sufficient to turn a human heart sick with 
love and delight, how lovely must be her entire face, 
when the young girl raised it and smiled! Often had 
the young man sat looking at the picture for hours, 
praying that the Prophet might perform a miracle 
and grant him one look into those adorable features. 
Thoughtless wish! The sight of half this lovely face 
had been enough to break his heart. What would have 
happened to him had he met the full radiance of its 
glance? 

After a few weeks the caravan reached Damascus 
and, after resting there for several days, turned toward 
Palmyra. Soon the travelers were once more in the 
open desert, where nothing but sky and sand were to 
be seen. There was no tree, no bush, no running spring. 
The allowance of water given each person now was 
reduced, and all the more greedily and longingly did 
every one gaze at the vision of the Fata Morgana, 
unveiled every evening before their eyes in its most 
enchanting beauty and grandeur. For hours at a time 
Saladin lay beneath his tent, staring out into the desert 
and dreaming with open eyes. At such times he 
imagined that his glance penetrated the fantastic forests 
he saw, and that he glimpsed the very fountain at 
which sat the maiden with the lowered eyes. Vain 
hope! When the sun sank, the magic island disap- 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


301 

peared, and Saladin would toss restlessly and fever¬ 
ishly on his couch. 

More than once he had made up his mind to leave 
the caravan, and even his old servant, secretly at night, 
fling himself on his horse and gallop off in Allah’s 
name in the direction where the Fata Morgana had 
built her magic gardens that day. But Ismael would 
tell him the most terrible tales of travelers who, tor¬ 
tured by thirst, had left their caravan to seek the de¬ 
ceitful waters which the phantom of the desert spread 
out before their eyes, and had come to a sad end in the 
sands. These tales never failed to make an impression 
on the young man, but only for a short time. His long¬ 
ing was too great, and gradually the determination to 
leave the caravan became firmly planted in his mind. 

At last—it was a wonderful night, and the Fata 
Morgana had gleamed in greater beauty than ever be¬ 
fore in the days of the setting sun—Saladin stole away 
from Ismael’s side, mounted his horse and softly rode 
from the row of tents out into the desert. After he had 
made careful note of the direction in which the Fata 
Morgana had beckoned that evening, he gave his horse 
the spurs and galloped off. The stars rose glittering 
into the heavens, then paled and descended. The dawn 
glowed in the east, and still the young man galloped 
across the sands in the direction of the new day. The 
gray of night turned to violet, the violet changed into 
topaz-yellow, and then half the heavens were covered 


302 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

with a golden ring which slowly rose while the first 
sunbeams gilded the desert in all its vast extent. 

Now Saladin checked his horse and looked at the 
sun, while sending up a short prayer to the Prophet, 
begging him to grant him his favor and to point out 
the right road he must take to win happiness. Then 
he looked back across the plain he had covered and 
when, far as his eye could reach, he saw nothing but 
sand, his heart grew lighter, and he was glad to think 
he had left the tiresome caravan and was now free as 
a bird to seek his fortune. He once more touched his 
horse with the spurs and galloped East, hoping that he 
would soon behold and reach the Fata Morgana. The 
sun rose slowly in the skies and seemed to concentrate 
all its rays on the lonely rider, until the heat was well- 
nigh unbearable. 

When the sun was again sinking the wearied horse 
could run no more. Saladin dismounted, but now dis¬ 
covered, to his dismay, that he had neither grain nor 
water to refresh the exhausted animal after its long 
journey. Fortunately he found a few handfuls of 
maize in his feed bag, which he gave the poor beast. 
As for himself, though tormented by hunger and thirst, 
he suddenly forgot both at sight of the Fata Morgana, 
which rose slowly before his eyes. He seemed to have 
drawn nearer, and imagined he could see the magic 
gardens more clearly and closer at hand than the day 
before. Alas, in truth, the enchanted forests of palms 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


303 


and the silver-white buildings were just as far away 
on the distant horizon as the night before! Night fell, 
and the next morning the young man once more 
mounted his horse to chase his dream picture, which 
retreated as he advanced, through the silent desert 
His horse was already so weakened by hunger, thirst 
and weariness that when the day grew to a close it 
could no longer carry him. So he dismounted and 
drew it along after him by the halter, for the phantom 
of the Fata Morgana once more rose before him, and 
he knew no rest. Alas, he was not a foot nearer than 
before! 

When night once more descended, he lay down be¬ 
side his horse and could hardly close his eyes for hunger 
and thirst. Yet the hope he would not give up strength¬ 
ened his heart, and when morning came he leaped up 
with renewed strength to continue his ride. His poor 
horse, whose heart did not urge him onward, and which 
had no hopes to encourage and strengthen it, only 
made a few painful efforts to gain its legs. Then it fell 
back upon the sand, at the end of its strength. 

And now for the first time Saladin began to have his 
doubts, and at the sight of his dying horse he remem¬ 
bered with terror that a similar fate would be his if 
he did not reach the goal of his longing. Yet his hope 
and a glance at the picture he carried drove away these 
gloomy thoughts. So he bade his faithful horse fare¬ 
well with a sad heart and continued his way afoot. 


304 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

To his dismay he discovered during the early hours 
of the day that this was a far slower and more exhaust¬ 
ing way of getting ahead than when sitting high in 
the saddle. It also seemed as though his limbs refused 
to obey him properly and as though something lamed 
his power. No matter how hard he tried to push on, 
he would take a few quick steps only to drop back 
again into a slow wearied tread. Two terrible enemies 
of mankind, hunger and thirst, had attacked poor 
Saladin and were laming his limbs and his heart! 

Again the sun slowly went down on the horizon, 
and the appearance of the Fata Morgana, once more 
rising before him, gave him fresh courage. For he 
thought this night the phantom gardens were nearer 
than the night before, very much nearer. Weariness 
soon stretched him out upon the sand, yet when his eyes 
closed the sleep which came was not one that refreshed. 
It lay on him like a fever, pressing down his lids with¬ 
out giving him rest. 

When the sun rose again the following morning, the 
fourth night since his flight from his companions had 
passed, and during all this time he had not tasted a 
drop of water or a mouthful of food. Any other mor¬ 
tal would have perished, and it was due only to the 
deprivations which Saladin had forced himself to suf¬ 
fer in Bagdad that he was able to drag along his ex¬ 
hausted body. He crept on like a snail, and for the 
first time the emptiness and loneliness of the desert 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


305 


seemed terrible to him. Then the doubts he had felt 
the preceding day with regard to the success of his 
plan were confirmed. He sighed for his servant 
Ismael, and for the first time thought of the sorrow the 
old man must have felt at his flight. 

“Alas,” he sighed, “had I only taken his advice! I 
could then have returned happily to Bagdad and 
awaited a more favorable chance to find the original 
of my picture, instead of coming to a wretched end in 
the sands!” 

The sun burned fiercely in the skies and beat down 
on his worn-out body. Round about, so far as his in¬ 
flamed eyes could reach, there was sand, only sand. 
No waving roof of palms was revealed to him, he heard 
no murmur of silver springs and then—the silence, the 
terrible silence which surrounded him! Not even a 
wild beast ran past, no bird clove the air above his head. 
Only the heavens glared down at him angrily, and the 
sun hung like a flaming shield above his head. 

At last Saladin lay down in the sand, for his legs 
refused to carry him any longer. He took out the pic¬ 
ture from its case and looked at it for the last time. 
Alas, the maiden sat as calmly as ever beneath the foun¬ 
tain, looking into the cool, clear jet of water that rose 
high above her, the very least part of which would 
have saved his own unfortunate life! Again the pic¬ 
ture exercised its usual magic, and lent him new hope 
and strength. He tried to rise in order to move on, 


306 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

but his limbs refused to serve him, and he fell back on 
the sand, closed his eyes and thought that his last hour 
had come. 

While he lay there, night came and a gentle wind, 
moving over the surface of the desert sand, cooled his 
heated cheeks and softly kissed his closed eyes. Once 
more the poor young man looked about him, and all 
his past life stood out clearly and vividly in his memory. 
He recalled Abn el Deri’s story of the strange way in 
which the Prophet had saved him from the sandstorm, 
and thought of that day when his foster-father had 
taken him from his dying mother’s arms. 

“Why,” he sighed, “was I saved then only to perish 
now in these selfsame sands, without my life having 
been of benefit to any one? Why is it?” Saladin’s 
weak voice rose to the sky, but nothing answered. 

The day had completely passed and with the dark 
night, the friendly stars and the gleaming moon, the 
last farewell hour of young Saladin’s life arrived. 
Once more his body shook with fever, then his heart 
beat more and more quietly, he unconsciously crossed 
his hands on his breast, and above in the vaults of 
heaven, a falling star flashed down and disappeared 
below the horizon. 

Whoever thinks that the desert, which seems so bar¬ 
ren and empty when we look at it, is not at certain hours 
of the night haunted by strange and mysterious figures 
just like any other part of the earth, is much mistaken. 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


307 


Only the djinns and phantoms which have their being 
in the sands, in keeping with the character of the desert, 
are more serious and sad than the djinns and imps who 
haunt the fruitful valley of the Nile when darkness 
falls. 

In the middle of the night, when the moon bends 
low, strangely shaped mists form in the air and cover 
the face of the stars, for the melancholy spirits which 
rise from the desert dust and sand prefer ghostly twi¬ 
light to the clear radiance of the moon. Over the curi¬ 
ously formed sand hills which lie side by side in long 
rows, blows a light wind, whirling the sand and dust 
high in the air. Yet, strange to say, these dust and sand 
clouds do not fall to earth again. They rise higher 
and higher, and glide and wind through each other in 
a mysterious way. Some grow lighter, some darker, 
and all assume strange shapes ; they clump together and 
take on the semblance of men and beasts, silently and 
busily floating through each other. Then, white, 
bleached bones rise out of the hills of sand and disap¬ 
pear among the figures which now slowly begin to 
move and form a long procession—the phantom cara¬ 
van! 

All those who perished in the desert, all who fell by 
the sword or bullet of the Bedouins, or who were cov¬ 
ered and slain by the samum, the sand storm, rise from 
their sandy graves and join the procession, which 
moves along through the desert to the hollow beating 


3 o8 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 


of a little drum. It is not well for a mortal eye to 
behold the passing of the phantom caravan! Whoever 
sees it is apt to fall ill and pass away and, perhaps, join 
the phantom caravan in the course of a few nights. 
Some who had seen it and survived have described it 
as an awesome sight: the quietly moving camels, strid¬ 
ing on with unseeing eyes, on their backs the motion¬ 
less riders whose turbans hang down as though in 
mourning, and whose long mantles rustle fearsomely 
in the wind. The women of the caravan sit bent 
over upon their horses, their heads wrapped in long 
veils, as is the custom when the sand storm draws near. 
Sometimes the man unfortunate enough to see the cara¬ 
van recognizes a friend or an acquaintance, who beck¬ 
ons to him. Alas, unfortunate is the one who re¬ 
ceives such a greeting! May the Prophet guard him, 
for else the end of his days is near! 

Now that night, when young Saladin lay on the sand 
and struggled with death, all kinds of strange scenes 
rose before his inner eye. It seemed to him that from 
its case the picture of the Princess Morgana, with the 
green palm trees beneath which she sat and the leap¬ 
ing fountain, whose plashing the luckless boy seemed 
to hear, slowly rose. He fixed his eyes on the lovely 
figure, and then new life filled his heart—for she 
slowly raised her head and the heavenly glance which 
she gave him filled him with new strength. Yet in 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


309 


vain. The picture faded again, grew indistinct and 
vanished in air. Once more Saladin lay there alone, 
and could feel his heart beat loud and anxiously. It 
was a tone which at first was inaudible and then grew 
louder and louder. But soon the dying youth decided 
that it was not his heartbeats, but some other noise, 
coming from the distance, that he heard. He had not 
deceived himself. It really was so. 

He could plainly hear the hollow sound of a drum 
which, beaten with a regular stroke, echoed far through 
the night, and seemed to be drawing nearer. Sud¬ 
denly the thought occurred to him that these might be 
people who had come to save him. But this hope van¬ 
ished as soon as it came, for he remembered that a 
caravan never travels by night. The noise he already 
had heard, however, continued to approach. And 
now he could hear the soft, regular step of the camels, 
the rustling and fluttering of the riders’ turbans and 
mantles. Painfully he opened his eyes, but at once 
closed them with a shudder, for he could see the phan¬ 
tom caravan passing close beside him. Softly the 
ghostly riders floated by, and he saw them all, in spite 
of his closed eyes. It seemed to him that they beck¬ 
oned to him, and the phantom of a negro, as he passed, 
grinned at him with white teeth and pointed to a rider¬ 
less horse which he led by the halter. A large number 
of camels and horses went by, their riders sitting in 


310 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

silence, wrapped in their veils and mantles, and not one 
paid any attention to the young man who lay dying on 
the sand. 

Then a new division of the procession appeared. It 
was made up of huge, heavily loaded camels, followed 
by a number of slaves riding horseback, surrounding 
a woman mounted on a noble Arabian steed. She, too, 
had a veil wrapped about her head, and stared gloomily 
down at her saddle. Suddenly, however, she moved, 
raised her head and looked about her in an astonished 
and terrified manner. And her face looked like a 
friend’s face to Saladin, and he felt that he knew her, 
though he could not recollect ever having seen her. 
She seemed like the tune of a song he had heard when 
a little child, and which once more echoed in his ears. 
The woman looked straight at him, as he lay on the 
sand, and suddenly her pale, motionless features broke 
into a friendly smile. She hastily threw off her veil, 
guided her horse from the line to where he lay, and 
leaped down and knelt beside him, laying her hand 
upon his forehead and heart. 

Saladin did not know how this came to pass, and 
now opened his eyes to gaze into the face of this kind- 
hearted woman who was regarding him with the great¬ 
est affection. 

“Yes, it is he,” she then said, in a soft, toneless voice. 
“It is my son! The sandstorm spared him and I see 
him once more!” As she spoke these words a feeling 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


3 ” 

of unspeakable joy ran through the dying youth’s veins, 
and in spite of the horror, the sight of the phantom 
caravan first had inspired in him, he no longer felt so 
abandoned as when he lay alone in the sands a short 
time before. The slaves in whose midst the woman 
rode likewise had turned their horses and surrounded 
Saladin, staring down upon him. Then the woman 
took a small flask from her girdle, from which she 
poured a few drops into his mouth. It ran through his 
whole body like living fire, and seemed to fill his limbs 
with fresh strength. Soon he was able to sit up and 
think the past hours must have been a dream. 

His glances turned to the phantom caravan which 
was still filing past in an endless procession. Then he 
looked at the woman’s pale face, radiant with tender 
love, and for the first time in his life he spoke a word 
whose sweetness he had never known before. 

“Mother,” he said, “is it you? Are you my mother, 
whom I lost as a child, and who now have appeared 
to save me from death?” 

Instead of answering the woman nodded sadly and 
then said: “I will if I can!” Then she looked up, after 
the caravan which was moving on, and cast a question¬ 
ing glance at her companions, who surrounded her 
without any sign of interest. 

Suddenly the negro, whom Saladin already had no¬ 
ticed and who had smiled so strangely at him, returned. 
He rode a black horse and led one of the same color, 


312 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

which, without saying a word, he offered to the young 
man. 

Saladin, supported by his mother’s arm, stood up 
and allowed himself to be led to the negro’s spare 
horse, which he mounted without a question. At the 
same moment the woman mounted her own and the 
procession hastily and in silence continued on its 
way. 

Saladin was conscious of all that recently had hap¬ 
pened to him. He had recognized his mother, who 
had saved him from death. Yet these strange happen¬ 
ings appeared to him like a pleasant dream. He saw 
the woman riding beside him, looking at him with af¬ 
fectionate devotion, and at times felt her lay her hand 
on his arm. Yet, alas, what he already had noticed 
was confirmed! Her hand was as cold as ice, and its 
touch sent a painful shudder through him. And her 
face, though its expression was kind, and he knew it 
for his mother’s, was fixed and lifeless. 

Though it seemed as if the camels and horses were 
only moving forward slowly, in reality they raced on 
with inconceivable swiftness. No sooner had a fresh 
row of sand hills disclosed itself to Saladin’s glances 
at the extreme edge of the horizon, than they already 
had reached it. 

After they had proceeded in this way for a time, 
Saladin suddenly noticed a number of splendid and 
airy pavilions on the horizon, surrounded by slender 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


3 r 3 

palms which seemed to have been called up out of the 
ground at a moment’s notice, by magic. 

Even at night the sight was magnificent. The pal¬ 
aces seemed to be illuminated from within, and glowed 
in the brightest and loveliest colors in the rays of thou¬ 
sands of lights. The thick groves of oranges, syca¬ 
mores and palms which surrounded them were also lit 
with bright flames, which appeared to rise from the 
numerous springs and fountains which fairly covered 
the green meadows. Or, rather, the water itself gave 
forth a clear radiance of many colors. 

Dazzled by the gleaming and shimmering, Saladin 
covered his eyes with his hand at the sight of this mag¬ 
nificent island in the midst of the desert, and while he 
asked his mother to which mighty sultan the palaces 
belonged, a strange, happy presentiment awoke in his 
soul. 

“Ah, my son,” said the veiled woman, “no mighty 
sultan dwells in those magnificent palaces! In the 
splendid and radiant abodes which gleam yonder 
dwells the unfortunate Princess Morgana!” 

It is easy to imagine the impression these words 
made on Saladin’s heart, and with what feelings he 
saw, lying before him, that island in the sands, to reach 
which he had striven so long. 

“Listen to me, my son,” continued his mother, “this 
oasis you see before you in all its magic radiance, is the 
phantom which mortals in the desert so often see on the 


3 i4 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

edge of the horizon, and which continually retreats 
and disappears at the approach of man. It is the Fata 
Morgana, a paradise the mercy of the Prophet has 
called forth in the desert for those unfortunates who, 
like your mother, have been buried in the sand, and 
thus been deprived of the burial rites for which the 
pious Moslem longs 1 

“Since these last rites have been denied us, we have 
no claim to the eternal joys of Paradise. For as long as 
the sun is in the sky we lie motionless beneath the sand, 
and not until night comes do we leave our graves and 
travel in countless bands, a mighty caravan, to the 
east, to the kingdom of the Princess Morgana, there 
to spend the night in joy and festivity1” 

Saladin paid but little attention to his mother’s 
words, for his heart was already in advance of the 
caravan. Filled with the most daring hopes, in thought 
he already stood beneath the orange and palm trees, 
and his eye sought the place where the fountain played, 
and at which he might hope to find the Princess. 

By now the first camels had reached the green island; 
quiet figures slowly dismounted from dromedaries and 
horses, and disappeared beneath the trees and among 
the buildings in the inner part of the oasis, whence 
rose a gentle, happy music. 

Thus gradually every division of the phantom cara¬ 
van arrived save that including Saladin, who had grown 
so impatient that he could hardly guide his steed. Now 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


3i5 

they, too, had reached the sward, and the slaves silently 
dismounted to hold the stirrups of their mistress and 
her son. The latter hastily flung himself from his 
horse, and was about to rush into the grove, when his 
mother held him back with her hand. 

“Whither would you go, my son?” she questioned, 
timidly. “Why are you in such haste? O keep away 
from the merry dances of my companions in misfor¬ 
tune! Keep away from them, for they are not meant 
for the eye still glowing with the light of life!” 

“Nay, mother,” the youth answered, impatiently, 
“What do I care for dance and song? It is something 
quite different, a lovely picture, which drove me out 
into the desert, and would have been my death, had the 
Prophet not sent you to save me! But now, mother, 
the original of my picture is near, I can wait no longer 
to see her. I must fling myself at the feet of the Prin¬ 
cess Morgana!” 

At the mention of this name the woman hid her face 
in her veil and said softly and sadly: “Alas, alas, my son, 
what has happened to you? Who has put in your mind 
the terrible thought of seeking out the Princess Mor¬ 
gana? O child of mine, remain behind! Do not fol¬ 
low the caravan of these unfortunates who spend the 
few wretched hours the Prophet grants them in wild 
revelry! Your wish to see the Princess Morgana might 
easily come true, and that very moment death would 
cover your eyes. Then you too would know no rest, 


3 i6 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

and would have to leave your grave throughout eter¬ 
nity and mount your horse to follow the phantom cara¬ 
van!” 

A mother’s prayers have a peculiar power. For 
all that he felt so strongly drawn to the grove where 
he hoped to find the Princess, he could not leave his 
mother, who begged him with moving words not to 
mingle with the gay revelers. Without power to re¬ 
sist, he allowed her to lead him to a quiet spot in the 
oasis, where no lights shone and where no sound of 
music fell on the ear. His mother took him to a grassy 
bank, beside which flowed a little brook. High¬ 
stemmed sycamores and palms rose above the bank of 
sod, and their branches formed a great arbor above it. 

Here she made her son seat himself beside her, and 
asked him what he knew of the Princess Morgana, and 
what had induced him to seek her. 

Then Saladin told her the story of his life in detail: 
how he had been brought up by Abn el Deri, how the 
latter had died—and had left him alone in the world, 
save for old Ismael. Then he spoke with greatest en¬ 
thusiasm of the picture, which he had discovered by 
chance, and of how he had fallen grievously ill on see¬ 
ing it, and how the longing to see the Princess Mor¬ 
gana never had left him. He told her how he had 
existed in poverty and wretchedness until the Caliph 
Haroun A1 Raschid had equipped him and sent him 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


3 l 7 

forth with the caravan. And he told her how he had 
left it a few days past and, straying through the desert, 
alone and half dead with thirst, would have perished 
that very night, had his mother not found him. 

When he had finished he drew the picture of the 
Princess Morgana from his girdle, and after his mother 
had looked at it she said: “My son, I cannot under¬ 
stand what magic power could have drawn this picture, 
for it is an exact copy of the features of the Princess 
Morgana.” 

“Do you not see, mother,” cried the young man, hap¬ 
pily, “that my dreams told the truth! Do you not see 
that my wish is about to be fulfilled! So prevent me 
no longer from making a final effort to see her. Per¬ 
haps I may win her heart and find happiness!” 

With these words Saladin was about to spring up, 
but his mother gently drew him down beside her again 
and begged him to listen carefully to what she had to 
tell him regarding the Princess Morgana. 

“That you were able to obtain this picture, my son,” 
she said, “is no favor shown you by Allah and his 
Prophet! On the contrary, it is a great misfortune. 
For if the mere sight of this picture has made you ill 
with love and longing, the sight of the Princess herself, 
whose beauty is a thousand times greater than that of 
this likeness, would be sure to kill you. So powerful 
is the radiance of her eyes that it even warms our dead 


3 i8 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

hearts and would restore us to life again did not the 
Prophet’s resistless command send us back to our sandy 
tombs at break of dawn! 

“The Princess Morgana is the daughter of a djinn 
who begged the queen of the djann to grant her a wish 
before the child was born. The foolish mother asked 
that her daughter might be so beautiful that no eye 
could see her without its possessor dying of love and 
longing. Her wish was granted, and when the Prin¬ 
cess Morgana grew up her fatal gift caused destruc¬ 
tion among mortals and djinni. Even though the lat¬ 
ter did not perish when they saw her, they fell into the 
deepest melancholy, because the Princess would give 
her heart to none of them. For the queen of the djann, 
when she granted the foolish mother’s wish, had added 
a condition to shame and humiliate the Princess: only 
a mortal should be able to win her heart, and this never 
could happen, since all men who saw her were instantly 
slain by the radiance of her beauty. Alas, my son,” his 
mother concluded, “the same would happen to you, 
and I would be unable to save you!” 

When Saladin had heard this tale, he knew it was 
true. Lost in gloomy thoughts he wondered which 
would be the worse fate: to spend his whole life given 
over to unsatisfied longing or to die suddenly but hap¬ 
pily by the glance of his beloved. 

In the meantime the night was far advanced and the 
stars had commenced to pale in the heavens. The 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


3i9 


horses standing out in the sand began to grow‘restless, 
scraping the ground with their hoofs and flinging up 
their heads, for the dawn wind which now rose and 
swept along the plain chilled them and made them 
shiver with frost. 

“My time is up,” Saladin’s mother said, “and now 
I must hurry out into the desert with the caravan till I 
reach the spot where the sandstorm caught me and 
covered me. Will you follow me, my son, and wait by 
my grave until we again make our journey to-morrow 
night, or will you await me here?” 

Much as the young man would have liked to follow 
his mother, he preferred to remain near his beloved. 
At the same time he promised his mother to make no 
attempt to see the Princess Morgana. She smiled 
sadly and answered: “However good your intentions, 
my son, your longing to see the Princess may cause you 
to forget my words. Therefore take my veil and put it 
over your face; it will preserve you from harm.” 

Then she once more pressed his hand and floated 
softly away, often looking back at him and signing 
with her hand for him not to follow her. 

Saladin had taken the veil from her and, following 
her instructions, had spread it over his face, when sud¬ 
denly an irresistible weariness took possession of him. 
He had to sit down on the mound of grass and, after 
struggling for a few moments against a sleepiness 
which weighed down all his limbs, he lay motionless 


320 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

as a dead man. He was not sleeping, for he could 
plainly see and hear everything that went on around 
him; yet it seemed as though all that happened only 
took place in his thoughts. He saw his mother return 
to the caravan, saw her mount her horse and, sur¬ 
rounded by her slaves, speed away: like black and gray 
veils the phantom figures floated over the sand. Be¬ 
fore long the entire phantom caravan had reached the 
edge of the horizon, where it gradually disappeared 
from sight. Meanwhile Saladin, wearied by his 
sleepless night, welcomed the slumber which soon 
overtook him. 

In the meantime day had dawned. The sun rose in 
the sky and gilded the tips of the palms and sycamores 
under which Saladin lay. Though he slept soundly, 
he still felt a movement in his slumbers, a movement 
as though he were on some great ship which, driven by 
the waves, rocked gently on the sea. Indeed, he was 
swimming in a sea. The waves were waves of sand, 
it is true, and his ship was an oasis, but he was on the 
Fata Morgana, which by day moved like a phantom 
across the sands, like the human heart, never stopping 
to rest. 

Suddenly, as he slept, the young man thought he 
heard a gentle rustling among the branches of the 
bushes surrounding his couch, and the sound of foot¬ 
steps, which seemed to approach. He tried to open 
his eyes, but though he did so, he did not waken fully 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


321 


and completely, as one does from a natural sleep. In¬ 
stead he found himself in the same curious condition as 
when he had wound the veil his mother had left about 
his head. All that he saw was toned down. The 
bright, burning color of the sands outside the oasis ap¬ 
peared to him as a light yellow. He could even stare 
the glowing sun in the face without being blinded by 
its radiance. 

Yet who could describe his astonishment and delight 
when, looking around him, he saw a maiden who was 
wandering thoughtfully beneath the trees and was mov¬ 
ing toward him. Yes, he was overcome with delight— 
for he recognized the charming, fairylike figure of 
the Princess Morgana, as she was painted in the pic¬ 
ture! Now, too, her head was turned toward the 
ground, and Saladin remembered his mother’s words— 
that this lovely maiden’s glance was fatal—only to for¬ 
get them and send up a silent prayer to the Prophet to 
grant him one look at the full beauty of that divine 
countenance, for then he gladly would die. 

By now the Princess had drawn quite near him. 
Suddenly she raised her head and stopped with an as¬ 
tonished glance at seeing the strange youth before her. 

Saladin saw at once that all the loveliness of her 
painted picture was a thousand times less than the 
reality. At the glance the Princess gave him, it seemed 
for a moment as though his heart would stop beating. 
The blood coursed wildly through his veins, and he 


322 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

felt that death alone could extinguish the fire which 
her glance had roused in him. Yet, thanks to his dead 
mother’s veil—as it had broken the glow of the sun, 
so it did the radiance of Morgana’s beauty!—he was 
preserved from the death which otherwise would have 
claimed him, as it had every other human being. 

For her part, the Princess was much disturbed when 
she saw the handsome youth lying motionless on the 
ground. It is true that she left him after a few minutes; 
yet as she went she looked back several times, as though 
to make sure that he was sleeping, seeing he did not 
move. 

This thought must have recurred to the Princess sev¬ 
eral times that day, for, to his great astonishment, 
Saladin noticed that she returned at different times to 
his grove and looked at him carefully. And he felt 
much comforted when, counting his heartbeats, he felt 
the savage pain which nearly had slain him at first 
sight of the Princess growing less the oftener he saw 
her. When evening came, it was no more than a gentle 
prickling in the left side, such as any other youth 
might feel when drawing near the object of his affec¬ 
tions. 

The sun sank and night slowly thickened, and as 
soon as darkness had spread over the desert as well 
as the oasis in which Saladin lay, the merry, radiant 
life of the night preceding began again in the groves 
and palaces. The waters of the springs and fountains 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


323 

glowed in the most manifold colors and cast a magic 
light on trees and buildings. Music sounded in the 
distance, and at the same time Saladin felt the invisible 
bonds which held his body chained grow weaker and 
drop from him, and that he could move again. He 
leaped from his couch, and his first thought was to make 
for the interior of the oasis, cast himself at the Prin¬ 
cess Morgana’s feet and avow his love. But at the last 
moment he remembered his mother’s words and deter¬ 
mined to do nothing until she had returned. 

And soon, far off in the desert, he saw the phantom 
caravan as it arrived. A few moments later the ghostly 
horsemen surged up in dense crowds, hastily left their 
steeds and camels, and hurried to the interior of the 
island to spend this night in wild revelry like the last. 
Saladin’s mother again appeared and joyfully hastened 
to greet her son when she saw him standing where she 
had left him. He quickly told her of what had hap¬ 
pened during the day; how the Princess had appeared 
several times to him; that his love for her had grown 
a thousandfold; and that no power on earth could pre¬ 
vent him from casting himself at her feet the following 
day. 

“Ah, mother,” he cried, “who knows whether I am 
not destined by fate to win her heart and become the 
happiest man on earth! And though your veil, no 
doubt, preserved me from instant death at first sight 
of her, my eye by now has grown accustomed to the 


3 2 4 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

radiance of her beauty, and to-morrow I shall make an 
attempt to look at her or perish!” 

In vain were all his mother’s pleas and prayers. His 
affection for the Princess had grown so mightily in 
Saladin’s breast that he felt it was a matter of life or 
death to him. So when the night had gone, and his 
mother bidding him farewell again left him her veil, 
he accepted it, but did not again bind it around his 
head. 

Filled with hope and expectation he sat and waited 
the coming of dawn. Again the sun rose, and for all 
he was so eager to see the Princess face to face, now 
that the moment had come he hung back, and quite 
some time had passed before he rose and took his way 
to the interior of the oasis. 

How tall and splendid the trees were here, and how 
freshly green was the sward! Never had he seen the 
like of the springs which rilled in crystal clarity over 
white, silvery sands, cooling the air round about them. 
Ah, how delicate and graceful were the pleasure pa¬ 
vilions which he passed! Their like could be found 
only in Paradise. Wherever his eye turned he saw 
some new, enchanting prospect. Light and shade, trees 
and water, in combination with the radiant pavilions, 
changed continually in the most charming manner. 
Suddenly Saladin felt his heart beat violently, and knew 
that he was drawing near the object of his search. He 
stood still for a moment, and drew a deep breath. Yes, 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


325 


through the trees he could'now see the fountain, and by 
the fountain sat the Princess, her head resting on her 
hand, just as in the picture! 

With noiseless, hesitating steps Saladin drew near 
and—was it a sudden weakness which overcame him, 
or his great love?—he sank down on one knee before 
her, and did not venture to raise his eyes. For a time 
he remained kneeling opposite her, until the Princess 
suddenly raised her head and uttered a loud cry as she 
saw the youth before her. Alas, had he only-been pro¬ 
tected by his mother’s veil! Though he had somewhat 
accustomed himself to the radiance of her beauty the 
day before, to-day he could not support the full splen¬ 
dor of her loveliness, and so sank bewildered and un¬ 
conscious at her feet. 

When he recovered a few moments later and opened 
his eyes, he saw to his delight that she was bending over 
him and regarding him attentively with a sad expres¬ 
sion. But as he once more closed his eyes, instead of 
the devouring flame which first had threatened his 
heart, he now felt a gentle, agreeable warmth steal 
through his body. He seized the Princess’s hand, 
pressed it to his breast, and could only stammer: “Ah, 
may the Prophet grant me a few moments in which to 
tell you how much I love you!” 

The Princess appeared to be quite as happy as Sala¬ 
din and as they looked into each other’s eyes, it was 
clear that from this hour on the Princess Morgana had 


326 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

given her heart to Saladin, and the devouring flame of 
her eyes turned to a gentle warmth which gave pleas¬ 
ure to all on whom her glance rested. 

Yes, they loved each other fondly and truly, and the 
day sped by swiftly for them in the enchanted oasis, 
amid happy talk and laughter, songs and games. 
When evening came the Princess rose from her place 
at Saladin’s side and told him that she must return to 
her apartments: 

“O my beloved,” she said, “I must inform my mother 
of the happiness which the Prophet—blessed be his 
name!—has granted me. The messenger I shall send 
her is swift, and though he must cover thousands of 
miles, he is sure to return before the break of day with 
her permission to leave this lonely oasis to share your 
life wherever you may go.” 

With these words and a gentle caress she left him 
and disappeared amid the bushes. 

Impatiently Saladin waited for the coming of night 
in order to tell his mother of the good fortune which 
had befallen him. And before very long the phantom 
caravan appeared and Saladin’s mother hurried to the 
grove, once more filled with joy at finding her son safe 
and sound. She was delighted when he told her of the 
day’s events, and that he had succeeded in winning the 
Princess Morgana’s heart. The following day, said 
Saladin, he probably would leave the oasis to return 
with his beloved to his fellow mortals, and he sorrowed 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


327 


at the thought that this was the last time he would see 
his mother. But she comforted him and bade him not 
to forget her. “When the minarets of Bagdad once 
more rise before your eyes,” she said, “remember to 
have a burial service read for me, as the Koran en¬ 
joins, so that my soul may enter into the joys of Para¬ 
dise, and I need no longer follow the phantom caravan 
through the endless desert nights!” 

With many tears Saladin promised to do as she 
wished, and when morning came his mother blessed 
him, mounted her horse and for the last time disap¬ 
peared from his sight with the ghostly caravan. For a 
long time Saladin’s eyes followed her while he prayed 
ardently to the Prophet to have mercy on her. 

No sooner did the rising sun gild the tree tops and 
flash from the golden domes of the pleasure pavilions 
than Saladin heard a confused sound of human voices 
coming from the interior of the oasis, mingled with the 
neighing of horses and the loud cries camels utter while 
being loaded. Astonished, he rose from the grass, 
and turned to the bushes. For a moment he thought the 
phantom caravan must have returned. All the greater 
was his joy when coming out into an open place in the 
middle of the oasis, he saw that this was another cara¬ 
van, made up of living people, horses and camels. And, 
his delight increased when, from the other side of the 
square there appeared the Princess Morgana, sur¬ 
rounded and followed by a number of female attend- 


328 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

ants and slaves, among whom she shone like the radiant 
moon amid the stars. 

She came forward to greet Saladin, gave him her 
hand, and then turning to her retinue and the caravan 
spoke the following words: “Behold your master 1 ” At 
this the women joyfully waved their veils, while the 
men broke out into a loud “Hussahl” 

“Beloved,” the Princess then said to Saladin, “my 
mother rejoices in her daughter’s happiness. These 
laden camels which you behold are the dowry she has 
given me. Each is heavily loaded with gold and silver, 
and the treasure they bear is so rich that one could not 
exhaust it in a lifetime!” 

Then the Princess beckoned and black slaves led up 
two magnificent Arabian steeds, which she and Saladin 
mounted. At the head of the caravan they then rode 
out into the desert. When the beautiful oasis with its 
fresh green trees and its clear waters lay behind them, 
the Princess and her husband turned their steeds, and 
in a low tone of voice, bade farewell to the spot where 
they had found their happiness. Alas, they were bid¬ 
ding it an eternal farewell! For once their foot had 
left its green meadows, they never could return. With 
surprise they saw the oasis withdrawing from them 
and floating further away across the sands. Soon they 
glimpsed it far off on the horizon, just as the traveler 
sees it on fair days. The palms tremble and sway, the 
fountains rise and fall, and the ends of the Fata Mor- 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


329 


gana melt into the sands so that one cannot say: here it 
begins and here it ends—a true likeness of love in the 
human heart! 

To the beating of little drums and the blare of great, 
curved horns the caravan took its way across the des¬ 
ert. 

But now let us return to old Ismael and the caravan 
Saladin had left in order to ride out into the sands. 

When the day following the night of Saladin’s flight 
from his tent dawned, old Ismael woke from a sound 
and refreshing slumber and saw that his master’s couch 
was empty. At first he thought Saladin had left the 
tent in order to enjoy the freshness of the morning air, 
Yet when he did not return at the end of an hour, the 
old man went to the rear of the tent and saw that his 
horse was missing. And when the caravan finally pre¬ 
pared to move on and Saladin had not yet appeared, 
Ismael grew uneasy and asked the guards whether they 
had seen him. 

But no one could give him any information regard¬ 
ing Saladin, and poor Ismael became terrified. “Alas,” 
thought he, “where can he be? Who knows what has 
lured him out into the desert where he is sure to die.” 
The thought that Saladin, in the madness of his long¬ 
ing, might have left the caravan in order to seek 
the original of his picture in the trackless sands filled 
the faithful servant with deep anxiety. And when 
Saladin did not return in the course of the following 


330 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

days, the feeling that he was straying alone in the sandy 
sea was confirmed. He would gladly have followed 
him, yet who could tell him which direction to take? 
Poor Ismael had to remain with the caravan and, sad 
and downcast, return with it to Damascus. Here a 
new misfortune awaited him. The slaves the Caliph 
had given Saladin, tired of serving one whom they 
thought their equal, disappeared one morning with all 
the horses and money, so that all poor Ismael had left 
was the clothes on his back and a few gold pieces he 
carried in his girdle. 

What was he to do? It seemed best to join a caravan 
returning to Bagdad, for he felt sure that if his young 
master escaped with his life he would return to that 
city to seek his old servant. So Ismael hired an old 
camel and after a sad and toilsome journey found him¬ 
self back in Bagdad again. 

Now, although the people in the streets and bazaars 
who had spoken ill of Ismael and his young master 
had forgotten all about them as soon as the caravan 
left, the former no sooner had returned than one and 
the other commenced to ask what had happened to the 
old rascal? How delighted they were when they 
learned that the young man had run away from his old 
servant on the way, and that Ismael had come back 
alone, poor and in rags, on an old and worthless camel. 

“Now you see,” cried the barber of the great cara¬ 
vanserai, “now you see that I was right! Yes, that is 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


33i 


the way things go! The Prophet—blessed be his name! 
—often punishes the sinner through his own deeds. The 
old man thought he would cheat the Caliph, and now 
he has been cheated by the young scoundrel himself. 
May Allah guard our Caliph, Haroun A1 Raschid! 
Yet no doubt he will be more careful in the future!” 

Poor old Ismael, who knew nothing of the false and 
evil gossip which was spread about him, and which 
even had reached the Caliph’s ear, no sooner found 
himself within the walls of Bagdad than he went on a 
Friday morning to the inner court of the palace, to cast 
himself at the Caliph’s feet, when the latter was about 
to ride forth to the mosque. 

He had not been waiting very long when the Grand 
Vizier rode through the gate, on his way to the Caliph. 
And no sooner had he seen Ismael, than he frowned 
blackly, and he ordered the castle guards to seize him 
at once; a command which was punctually obeyed, to 
Ismael’s great alarm. Two soldiers took him between 
them and thrust him into one of the palace dungeons, 
where he sat until the following day. 

Poor Ismael, who had suffered so much misfortune 
of late, looked upon his imprisonment as another trial 
which the Prophet had sent to test him. Besides, he 
thought that he had been seized by mistake, for some 
one else, because he knew he had done no wrong. After 
he had spent a night sadly meditating in his prison, he 
was brought before the Caliph, who sat alone in a great 


332 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

chamber with only the Grand Vizier for company. 
Neither of them, however, looked friendly, as they had 
the first time Ismael had found himself in the presence 
of the Commander of the Faithful. 

As he entered Haroun A 1 Raschid wrinkled his eye¬ 
brows, and the Grand Vizier gruffly ordered him to 
step nearer: 

“Who are you?” the latter began. With joy Ismael 
hastened to answer the question: “O Master, I have 
the honor of being known to you! I am Ismael, the 
servant of Abn el Deri!” 

The poor old man still thought that he had been mis¬ 
taken for some one else, and imprisoned by error. He 
grew pale with fright when the Grand Vizier said an¬ 
grily: “What, you persist in your falsehoods in the 
presence of our lord the Caliph! Abn el Deri was a 
true believer, and would not have kept a thief and a 
cheat among his servants.” 

“Alas, lord, what is this you say?” replied Ismael. “I 
am a poor old man bowed down by misfortune, yet I 
swear by the Prophet that never have I stolen a piastre's 
worth nor cheated my life long, and that I ever have 
spoken the truth!” 

“Listen, Ismael,” said the good-natured Caliph, 
“your denials will not help you. You had better admit 
your wrongdoing, so that I may be able to show you 
mercy.” 

“But tell me what I am to confess?” wailed the hap- 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


333 

less old man, casting himself on his knees before the 
Caliph. 

“First of all,” said the Grand Vizier, “who was the 
young man you gave out to be Abn el Deri’s adopted 
son? And what has become of him?” 

“Alas, master, young Saladin was Abn el Deri’s 
adopted son!” was Ismael’s answer. “But as to what 
has become of him, Allah and his Prophet alone can 
tell!” 

“Then,” the Grand Vizier went on, “you persist in 
your falsehoods! In that case I shall tell you the 
truth, lest you imagine you have been falsely im¬ 
prisoned. The young rascal whom you pretended was 
Abn el Deri’s adopted son, and whom my noble master, 
the Caliph, showered with rich gifts as a result of your 
clever story, is no more Abn el Deri’s adopted son than 
you are his servant. Nor was he found in the desert 
when a child and brought up by you. You found him 
in a barbershop, whence you took and trained him in 
order to cheat your lord and master, the Caliph!” 

Ismael did not know what to make of this accusation. 
When he recovered from his first fright he vowed by 
the Prophet’s beard that the Grand Vizier was mis¬ 
taken, and that Saladin really was Abn el Deri’s 
adopted son. Yet all his vows were useless. In vain 
he described his journey up to the moment when his 
young master had disappeared. Neither the Grand 
Vizier nor the Caliph believed him, and when he had 


334 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

ended the former clapped his hands and had the barber 
of the great caravanserai brought in. 

The barber declared that the young man, whom the 
Caliph had given such rich gifts under the name of 
Saladin, was one of his helpers, who had run away 
from him a few months before. Then he added, with 
a sly glance at Ismael: “Commander of the Faithful! 
Every one may make a mistake, yet it seems to me that 
at that very time I often saw this old man and my ap¬ 
prentice talking together. Probably they were dis¬ 
cussing how they might best take advantage of your 
Highness’s generosity!” 

The Caliph listened to all this with dark glances, 
and when the barber had ended he said to the old man: 
“Listen, Ismael, I am sorry to have caught you in this 
act of disloyalty. Though I would like to be merciful 
and dismiss you unpunished, yet in common justice 
you should not go scot-free. Since I do not wish to be 
both judge and accuser, however, you shall be taken 
before the cadi of my city of Bagdad, and he shall sit 
in judgment on you.” 

Ismael was led back to prison, and the following day 
taken before the cadi, where the barber repeated his 
testimony. And the cadi decreed that Ismael had been 
guilty of cheating the Caliph by means of an invented 
tale, and condemned him to five hundred blows on the 
soles of his feet, and ten years imprisonment. At the 
same time he allowed Ismael three days’ grace against 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


335 

the chance that young Saladin might appear and tes¬ 
tify to his innocence. 

The Caliph’s mercy, it is true, spared him the five 
hundred blows on the soles of his feet, yet when the 
three days went by and Saladin did not appear, Ismael 
was sent to jail and there, in company of thieves and 
cutthroats, had to draw barges along the Tigris tow- 
paths and do other hard labor. 

This was the unfortunate man’s reward for his at¬ 
tachment to his old and his young master, and the lat¬ 
ter’s thoughtlessness. Alas, Ismael felt happy to think 
that in the natural course of events he would not live 
many years to suffer such undeserved punishment! It 
hurt him deeply that the kindly Caliph regarded him as 
a cheat, and he would gladly have undergone severer 
punishment if thereby he could have proved his inno¬ 
cence to the Caliph Haroun A 1 Raschid and his Grand 
Vizier. He did cherish a faint hope that his young 
master might return, to prove him guiltless, but day 
after day and week after week went by—and Ismael 
still hoped in vain. 

One morning, Ismael together with a number of his 
fellow prisoners was busy towing a large vessel up the 
stream. Since it was a humid and oppressive day, the 
poor prisoners were allowed, from time to time, to lie 
down and rest in the shade of the trees on the river- 
bank. There Ismael lay, looking sorrowfully into the 
distance, when far away he saw a great and rich cara- 


336 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

van moving toward Bagdad. At the sight of the heav¬ 
ily laden camels and the numerous slaves he could not 
help thinking of days gone by, when he had sallied 
gaily out into the world in company with Abn el Deri. 

Meanwhile the caravan came nearer and nearer and 
Ismael, as well as the other prisoners, admitted that it 
was a long time since they had seen so splendid a pro¬ 
cession. The camels were all of uncommon size and 
strength, loaded with the greatest care, and evidently 
with great treasures. The slaves were too numerous 
to be counted. All were mounted on strong, handsome 
horses and the garments they wore were so rich that 
they would have looked like lords and emirs had it not 
been for the owner of the caravan, who rode in the 
midst of the cortege in such splendid robes and on such 
a magnificent steed that all eyes were turned on him. 
A great number of black and white female slaves also 
surrounded a beautiful woman, and the sheen of gold- 
embroidered jackets, pantalettes and veils blinded the 
sight. 

Ismael turned away and sighed as he went back to 
his hard labors while the splendid caravan haughtily 
entered the walls of Bagdad. 

Although the poor slave had seen many a rich cara¬ 
van file by in his time, yet none had so excited his 
imagination as this he had just beheld and when, after 
several hours of toil, he once more lay with his com¬ 
panions in the shadow of the trees on the Tigris’s bank 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 337 

he began to build the most delightful castles in the air: 
“Ah, were my young master only to return with a 
splendid caravan of this kind and enter the presence of 
Haroun A1 Raschid to ask what had become of his 
faithful old servant, Ismael! If he would only appear 
in the Caliph’s palace, leading the beautiful Princess 
Morgana by the hand, as a living proof that I spoke 
the truth and nothing but the truth! . . 

It was while Ismael was lying beneath the trees chew¬ 
ing on his hard crust of prison bread, that the chief 
keeper of the prisoners, accompanied by two slaves, 
hastily rode up and ordered the old man to follow him. 

Ismael at first was afraid that the cadi had changed 
his mind and that he was to get the five hundred blows 
with the rattan which had been forgiven him. He 
could think of no other reason why the chief keeper 
should pay any attention to an unknown old man like 
himself, and was much astonished when the latter took 
him to his house, had him throw off his shabby old 
rags and presented him instead with a good kaftan 
and a handsome turban. In reply to his questions the 
chief keeper merely said that he had been ordered to 
bring him at once to the Caliph’s presence. This mes¬ 
sage filled old Ismael with joy. Surely, the generous 
Caliph was about to pardon him! The thought that 
his young master might have returned even crossed his 
mind, but it was too fantastic a one for him really to 
believe. 


338 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

Soon they reached the Caliph’s palace, and there 
Ismael was led into an anteroom where the Grand 
Yizier, Abdallah, met him in person, gave him his 
hand and said in a voice shaken with feeling: “Ismael, 
in our blindness we have done you a great wrong. Yet 
the Prophet, who has brought your innocence to light, 
will see that you are rewarded. Now come with me to 
the Caliph!” 

Trembling with joy and anticipation, the old servant 
followed the Grand Vizier into the adjoining chamber. 
There, his eyes modestly downcast, he stood in the door¬ 
way and at first did not dare to look the Caliph in the 
face. Yet when the latter called out his name in a 
friendly tone of voice, he looked up and who can de¬ 
scribe his amazement and happiness when he saw his 
young master, whom he had thought dead, and who 
now came forward and fell on his neck with tears in his 
eyes. 

Old Ismael nearly died of joy as young Saladin 
briefly told his tale and then, taking him by the hand, 
led him to the Princess Morgana. Ismael, like the rest 
of those present was so surprised by the Princess’s 
beauty that everything turned before his eyes, and he 
had to sink down on a divan lest he fall. 

Now gladness reigned. Young Saladin built him¬ 
self a splendid palace with green gardens and playing 
fountains, on the banks of the Tigris, and there lived 
happily with his beautiful wife and his faithful old 


THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 


339 


servant, cherished by all because of his wealth and gen¬ 
erosity, and honored by the Caliph for his kind heart 
and his noble qualities. And by the latter’s orders the 
gossipy barber who had spread the malicious false¬ 
hoods anent poor Ismael and his master took the vacant 
place the honest servant had left in the towgang. 


















































































SOURCES 


1. This popular Spanish folk tale of the origin of the 
weathercock has been retold from the version in Fer- 
nan Caballero’s romance Gaviota. 

2. Here the author has woven an Aztec story around 
motives found in Bernardino de Sahagun’s Historia 
Universal de Nueva Espaha. 

3. Retold after one of Bozena Nemcova’s Bohemian 
Folk Tales. 

4. This Oriental version of the North Sea tale of The 
Fisherman and his Wife is retold after H. Sunder- 
mann’s Dajakkische Faheln. 

5. An original fairy tale based on details given in Diego 
de Landa’s Historia de las Cos as de Yucatan, and 
F. de Waldeck’s Voyage Pittoresque et Arche0- 
logique dans la Province d’ Yucatan. 

6. Retold after one of the Sizilianische Mdrchen by 
Laura Gonzenbach. 

7. Retold after a Turkish folk tale in Robert Lindau’s 
Tiirkische Geschichten. 

8. After W. D. Westervelt’s Legends of Old Honolulu. 

9. Here the author has taken a charming fairy tale by 
Grimm, whose type does no violence to Aztec mores 
and characteristics, and has lent to it the glowing, 
colorful setting of ancient Anahuac. 

341 


342 WONDER TALES FROM FAR AWAY 

10. Retold after an original in David Braun’s Japanische 
Marchen und Sagen. 

11. Retold after the French version in E. Laboulaye’s 
Nouveaux Contes Bleus. 

12. Of these three Negro tales, the original of the first is 
to be found in L. Frobenius’s Afrakanische Marchen; 
the second in Bufe’s Die Poesie der Duala-Neger in 
Kamerun; and the third in J. Spieth, Die Ewe-Stamme. 

13. In the telling of this Sanscrit tale from the Mahaba- 
rata , the version in A. Essigmann’s Sagen und Mar - 
chen Alt-Indiens has been followed. 

14. The originals of these two charming variants of the 
story of Cinderella—occidental and oriental—are con¬ 
tained, respectively, in Paul Heyse’s Italienische Volks - 
marchen and the Dutchman Matthes’ Bijdragen. 

15. An original wonder tale by the author of the present 
volume. 

16 . Retold after the original by the Czech poet and folk¬ 
lorist, C. J. Erben. 

17. A retelling of one of the charming original fairy tales 
by the German novelist, F. W. Hacklander. 

18. After the original in J. G. v. Hahn’s Griechische und 
Albanesiche Marchen. 

19. Retold after a Mongond tale from West Celebes, 
given in P. Hambruch’s Malaiische Marchen . 

20. The original tale in Karadschitsch’s Serbian folktales, 
is here retold after the version in Wilhelm Schmid- 
bonn’s Garten der Erde . 


SOURCES 


343 

21. Retold after the original in Bela Balazs’s Der Mantel 
der Traume . 

22. A retelling of an original in Leo Frobenius’s Volks- 
marchen der Kabylen, Vol. i. 

23. After the original in Victor von Andrejanoff’s Let- 
tische Marchen. 

24. Retold after Frederic Macler’s Contes Armeniens. 

25. After the original in K. Langloh Parker’s More Aus¬ 
tralian Legendary Tales . 

26. A Benares fairy tale by Dr. Hermann Brockhaus. 

27. The original of this story, like No. 17, is by the Ger¬ 
man novelist, F. W. Hacklander, a charming wonder 
tale in the manner of the Thousand and One Nights . 























































































